


To Ineffability and Beyond!

by NotASpaceAlien



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aliens, Bestiality??????, Fluff and Humor, Future!Omens, Humor, M/M, Smut, funny business in space, or are there ??? hmmm aliens aren't real of course, space, the technical term is "hot alien blowjobs"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9421157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotASpaceAlien/pseuds/NotASpaceAlien
Summary: Far into the future, Aziraphale and Crowley get a new assignment: to accompany humanity into the deepest reaches of a distant galaxy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vulgarweed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulgarweed/gifts).



> Produced for the 2016 Good Omens Holiday Exchange  
> On LJ at http://go-exchange.livejournal.com/198741.html  
> On tumblr at http://not-a-space-alien.tumblr.com/post/156218505055/to-ineffability-and-beyond

You would be surprised at humans’ ability to make any topic politically controversial.

Well, _you_ might not, since you’re a human yourself.  Or presumably you’re a human, since aliens don’t exist.  But we’ll get to that later.

The point is, conservative factions on Earth managed to raise objections to the idea of interstellar travel at every step. First there was talk about how atheists wanted to use space travel to further their secular agenda.  Then there were objections that aliens, if they existed, would be damned to Hell and it wasn’t worth finding them.  Alternatively, some kind souls argued it was their duty to proselytize the aliens, if there were any.  Those factions argued into stalemate.  Then some on earth said that it would be dangerous and immoral to send humans into the depths of space for a variety of reasons, none of which could be articulated properly, of course, because they were ineffable.  Comparisons with the tower of Babel abounded—humans had no business trying to reach the sky, and the deep space program was a work of human hubris like nothing before it.  These arguments were countered by religious liberals who argued that they had a right or even a duty to explore all of God’s creation so it could be properly admired.

Aziraphale eyed the developments with nervousness.  He’d received no orders from Up There about the topic, so he kept his head in the sand as much as possible.  When he could not help getting involved, he generally tried to persuade humans to keep their feet on the ground.  Not because he was taking the side of the religious protesters in the debate, but because he did not like the thought of Heaven sending him on a journey a million light-years away.  He could see it off in the distance coming towards him, like a train on an inevitable track.

Exploring the galaxy.  Where no man (etc.) had gone before.  Giant leap for mankind, and all that.  The talk about the bird on the spaceship travelling for eternity to the end of the universe came back to him.  He didn’t like it at all.  Space seemed uncomfortable and dismal and he probably wouldn’t be able to bring his books.

Well, that issue was resolved when new laws put into place restricted the use of paper.  He holed himself up for a week in the throes of depression after it happened, because he knew his collection would be seized as contraband.  They would give him digital copies, of course, but it wasn’t the same.  He thought bitterly of the Library of Alexandria and how they had stolen the manuscripts of everyone coming in.  It didn’t seem fair now that he was on the other side of things.  The computer bank he received as compensation just didn’t have the same effect as being surrounded by books.  But it did make him feel better that he could take his collection with him rather easily if he should have to move.

It seemed like an increasingly likely possibility when finally, after centuries of development, interstellar space travel became a reality.

They tested with a probe, of course.  Humans always use a probe first for everything.  But the government said that the test was in preparation for a manned mission to colonize a distant planet.

Humans watched the probe, did their calculations, and turned their telescopes to the stars to find a suitable candidate planet.  Aziraphale drank more heavily than usual during this time, waiting, watching.

The probe was successful. An enormous deep-space vessel was commissioned. Aziraphale waited for the orders he just _knew_ were coming.  Then finally:

_Your new mission is to relocate with the humans who will board the_ Aphelion _vessel and continue your angelic duties in their new destination._

At this point in history, Crowley and Aziraphale had been living together for several hundred years, so Crowley saw the instructions as soon as the angel got them.  He shook Aziraphale by the shoulders.

“We get to be _space explorers!_ ”

“Yes,” said Aziraphale dismally.

“Where no man has gone before,” said Crowley, tripping in his excitement.

“Yes, of course, dear.”

“Hell is going to send me too, of course.”

“I’m sure they will.”

“We should start packing.”

“It’s going to take decades to build the vessel, my dear.”

Over the next few years, Crowley’s consumption of science-fiction media skyrocketed.  He got out his telescope every night and looked at the sky from the porch of their little cottage to track the progress of the construction of the vessel.  The thing was so enormous that it had to be constructed in orbit as there would be no way for it to escape Earth’s gravity.  It was visible to the naked eye in the sky as it began to take shape.

Humans had a pretty decent mastery over living and working in space by that point.  They’d had a colony on Mars for a while; Crowley had gone up to see what it was all about, but he’d returned a few years later complaining that it had been incredibly boring since they weren’t terraforming Mars and were just living in a big bubble mining things.  But he remarked on how efficient it was.  Humans truly were fluent in the mechanics of working in space.

So the construction of the _Aphelion_ vessel was rapid, efficient, and enthusiastic. And yet Crowley began to mutter to himself when he saw how it was coming along.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Aziraphale said, coming up behind him one evening with a mug of cocoa for each of them.

Crowley took his cup sourly. “I don’t like it.”

“What?  The ship?”

“Yeah.”

“And why not?”

“It’s…”  He struggled to put his feelings into words.  “It’s….not cool!”

“Not cool?  It’s an interstellar space ship!  What could possibly make it un-cool?”

“Just look at it!”

Aziraphale turned, gazing up at the sky and sipping his cocoa.  The vessel was faintly visible in orbit, mostly built, although parts of it still had a skeletal frame and nothing more.  “What about it?”

“It looks like a bloody Hula-Hoop! Or a wagon wheel!”

“Crowley, the ship is circular so it can spin and generate artificial gravity with centrifugal force. What did you _think_ it was going to look like?”

Crowley had been thinking of the thirty-fifth James Bond movie, which had taken place in space and had not been scientifically accurate.  It wouldn’t do to admit that, of course, so he sipped his cocoa bitterly without answering.

His enthusiasm returned when their applications for becoming colonists arrived in the electronic mail. He opened them the second he laid eyes on them.  The two of them snuggled together on the couch to fill them out.

The questions were pretty basic, although the two of them had a hard time answering them.  Date and place of birth were difficult to decide on, and neither of them had ever been to the physician and didn’t know their blood type. 

“Angel,” said Crowley. “Look at item 137.”

Aziraphale scrolled to the end of his application and saw that 137 was a simple statement in bold:

THE INTENTION OF THE _APHELION_ MISSION IS A PERMANENT SETTLEMENT ON PLANET KEPLER-442B.  THE _APHELION_ VOYAGER IS EQUIPPED FOR A RETURN JOURNEY TO EARTH IN THE EVENT OF MISSION FAILURE, BUT THE LIKELIHOOD OF A RETURN JOURNEY TO EARTH IS VERY SMALL.  BY SIGNING HERE, YOU ACKNOWLEDGE THAT YOU ARE AWARE OF AND ACCEPT THIS LIKELIHOOD. 

“What’s the matter?”

“If we get on board, we’re probably not going to come back to Earth.  They don’t have any plans to come back.”

Aziraphale set the screen with his application down on the table.  “Well, I had thought that was a given.  They’re going out there to _colonize._  And it’s very far away.”

Crowley was looking at his application with an expression of sorrow.  

“Had you not thought about that?’

He tapped a finger on the side of his screen.  “It’s not worth staying here anymore since they stopped making cars,” he said, signing the line.

It was said with a forced joking tone.  Aziraphale took his hand.  “Crowley, it’s not the same as Armageddon.  It’ll still _be_ here.  It’ll just be a bit further away.”

“Yeah,” said Crowley. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Aziraphale thought he was quashing down his feelings because it had already been decided that Aziraphale was going, and one of them staying and the other going was unthinkable.  And maybe, just maybe the thought of being on a space ship and going off into the unknown where strange and exciting things awaited was enough to make up for it.

They were both called in for the second round of screening.  They were given a physical examination, an ethics test, an aptitude test, a personality test.  Crowley chatted excitedly about the questions, which were supposed to be confidential, as soon as they stepped out of the testing center.

Their results came back within a month:  Crowley had been accepted for the third round of screening, while Aziraphale was given a letter of polite declination. Aziraphale glared at Crowley when the demon turned red and shook with suppressed laughter, and then the angel set about changing his corporation and applying again under a different name.

The second attempt was also rejected.  Crowley fell into a giggling heap on the couch.  Aziraphale huffed indignantly and asked Crowley to pull some strings in the computer system to let him in, the same way he had designed the sigil Odegra into the M25 all those centuries ago when humans still used highways.

“Oh, all right,” he said. “Anything for you, angel.”

* * *

Aziraphale was awoken by the sound of bare feet on the wood floor rapidly pattering towards him, and then a weight ramming into him.

“ _Oof!_ ” Aziraphale wheezed, opening his eyes to see that Crowley had jumped onto the bed and landed directly on the angel’s ribs.

“Wake up, angel!” Crowley said, bouncing on the mattress excitedly.  “Wake up!  Wake up! Wake up!  Today’s the day!  It’s today!”

“Yes, all right, all right,” said Aziraphale, untangling himself from the sheets.  “Give me a moment.”

There was already a cup of tea waiting for him on the table.  Crowley was busily moving things around in the kitchen.

“Crowley, what are you doing? The landlord is going to be coming later today to take care of the house.”

Crowley shook his hands out. “I don’t know.  I’m just so excited.”

“Relax, dear.  Just enjoy the morning, because things will be very different soon.”

They ate a leisurely breakfast, although Crowley’s leg was still vibrating under the table.  Crowley grabbed the suitcases, and Aziraphale wheeled the cart that had his digital collection of books behind him.

“See, you can take your whole collection with you!” said Crowley.  “Humans know what they’re doing.”

They stopped by the park to feed the ducks one last time, emptying a bag of birdseed onto the ground and watching them squabble over it.  Aziraphale had to convince Crowley not to try and sneak a mallard onto the _Aphelion._

They arrived at the airport and went straight to the gates reserved for interplanetary travel.  Crowley had cheated to get them first class seats, so they got to sip champagne while they waited to board.

“So where are you two headed?” said a woman who sat down next to them, a kind soul who apparently had never gotten the memo that small talk with strangers was taboo.

“The _Aphelion_ ,” Crowley answered proudly.

“No way!” said the woman.  “Lucky!  I applied to go, but they turned me down.”

“Not _that_ lucky,” said the man waiting on the other side of them. “They get to go into deep space and live on some barren rock and never come back.  Probably go mad with cabin fever and kill each other, the lot of them. I’ll pass.”

Crowley glared at the man, but he was wearing his sunglasses so the intended effect was lost.

They were finally called on board. Interplanetary ships looked a lot like airplanes, except they pointed nose-up at the sky and you had to climb a ladder to get to your seat.  Crowley and Aziraphale allowed their luggage to be wheeled away and strapped themselves in, suspended in their seats looking up.

“Aziraphale, have you ever been on an interplanetary trip?” said Crowley as the seats around them filled in.

“Afraid not,” said Aziraphale. “Prefer to keep my feet on the ground, I suppose.”

“Halfway through the flight, the whole cabin is at zero-G, and while you’re not technically _supposed_ to unstrap yourself and move around, the stewards will usually let you if it looks like you know what you’re doing.”

“Charming.”

“You’re not going to give it a shot?”

“No.”

A man in a flight attendant’s outfit came through and made sure everyone had strapped themselves in, as though they were on an amusement park ride.

“Attention in the cabin,” said the voice of the pilot through the intercom.  “Welcome aboard flight T654.  Our destination today is Earth’s moon with a layover in the upper ionosphere.  We have some special passengers on board today headed to the _Aphelion._ ”

Crowley enthusiastically waved his hands above his head.  Aziraphale grabbed his arms and pulled them down.

“This is a reminder that the pull of gravity decreases the further we get from earth and then increases closer to the moon.  Docking at the _Aphelion_ will bring us up to approximately 1.1G’s, so if you’re remaining on the shuttle please stay in your seat for the duration of that connection.”

“How are we going to dock with the _Aphelion_?” said Aziraphale. “I thought it was spinning around at a zillion revolutions per hour?”

“That’s what generates the artificial gravity,” said Crowley from beside him, in an impeccable and nasally imitation of Aziraphale’s voice.  The angel glared at him.

“Now, if you please, pay attention to the health and safety demonstration at the front of the shuttle, and we can take off.”

The in-flight video demonstrated where the emergency exits were (“Where on Earth would we be exiting to?” Aziraphale commented, to which Crowley replied, “No.”), the location of the emergency oxygen masks (“That wouldn’t be helpful if we were in the burning cold of space!” Aziraphale had said worriedly, and Crowley had shushed him.), and a plethora of other safety devices upon which Aziraphale offered his fussy commentary.

Another flight attendant came by to check and make sure there weren’t any items loose in the cabin that would start floating around without gravity.  Aziraphale thought they were rather making a big deal out of this, and people went to the moon all the time and why was this a whole big long process? They should just take off already.

The crew buckled themselves in, and the countdown finally started over the intercom.

_10…9…8…_

“Do they have to be so dramatic about it?” Aziraphale said.

_7…6…5…_

“Because I’m sure they don’t need to actually count down.”

_4…3…_

“It’s for the ambiance. Hey, angel.”

_2…_

Aziraphale looked over. Crowley was giving him a lecherous look.

_1…_

“I can’t wait to suck you off in zero-G.”

The woman behind Crowley had clearly heard what he had said and had a shocked look on her face.  Aziraphale was thrown back flush against his seat before he could respond.  The cabin rattled and shuddered.  Aziraphale was glad there weren’t any windows, because he was sure they were going faster than he had ever gone before in his life.

_We have liftoff_.

They began to slow.  The motion died down.

“Angel, relax,” said the voice beside him.

Aziraphale looked down and realized he was white-knuckling his armrest.  He peeled his hand off and ran it through his hair.  “That wasn’t so bad.”

Crowley suppressed a snort.

A ticker at the front of the cabin showed their altitude, skyrocketing before their eyes.

“Humans are amazing, aren’t they?” said Crowley.  “Remember when they thought the moon was only a couple dozen miles away?”

“Yeah,” said Aziraphale.

They sat there in silence for a while, just holding hands, thinking of the planet zooming away beneath them.

“It seems a little odd to me that they’re only sending one angel and one demon with the _Aphelion_ crew,” said Aziraphale.  “The population is slated to be, what, several thousand isn’t it?”

“You know they don’t pay attention to those things, angel.”

“Mm, maybe they just wanted to get rid of us once and for all.”

“Ha!  I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Hmm, who should we send to be Hell’s representative on the barren ball of rock a trillion miles away? I know—that chap Crowley!  He messed up the apocalypse, but surely he’s perfect for this job.”

Crowley sat in uncomfortable silence.

“Crowley?  Did I say something wrong?  I’m sorry, I was only joking.”

“They didn’t send me,” Crowley said.

“ _What?_ ”

“They told me to keep my feet on the ground because they were sending another demon.”

Aziraphale grimaced.  “Oh.”

Crowley flashed him a nervous smile.  “Fuck ‘em, I say.  What are they gonna do about it?”

“My dear, they might very well do _something_ if we aren’t careful.”

“Whatever,” said Crowley, letting go of his hand to indignantly cross his arms.  “And it’s not going to be a ‘barren ball of rock,’ Aziraphale.  There’s going to be aliens on there.”

“…You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious! Aliens have to be real somewhere out there in the galaxy!  It wouldn’t surprise me if they were on the very planet we’re going to!”

“Did you read the pre-voyage materials they sent us?”

Crowley didn’t answer.

“You didn’t read them.”

“It looked like homework.  I don’t do homework.”

“Crowley, they already did a scan of the surface of Kepler-442b and it showed no signs of life at all. If there were a bustling alien civilization on it, I hardly think we’d be going to colonize it.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me with the way Europeans behaved in the 16th century,” Crowley muttered.  “I’m telling you, there’s going to be aliens on there.”

“We have to terraform it first. There’s nothing alive on there. It’s empty.”

“Aliens.  Mark my words.”

“They would have seen them.”

“They’re underground.”

Aziraphale patted his hand. “Whatever makes you feel better, dear.”

They began to feel lighter and lighter as the pull of gravity lessened.  At one point Crowley looked over to see Aziraphale’s mass of curly hair had drifted upwards and ringed his head like a halo.

The intercom _ding_ ed.  “We are now approaching the _Aphelion_ for docking.  If you’re getting off, please stay in your seats until the ‘Gravity’ sign at the front of the cabin turns green.  Reminder that if you’re continuing on to the moon, stay in your seat.”

Aziraphale’s stomach dropped as gravity re-engaged, gradually forcing him back into his seat.

“Aw,” said Crowley.  “We didn’t get to float around at all.” 

One of the flight attendants came by and escorted them from their seats.  They were ushered to the same door at the back of the ship from which they had entered.  When it _whooshed_ open, they were greeted by a positively utilitarian bare metal room, the front of which led to a single extremely thick, locked porthole.

“This is the place, then?” said Aziraphale.  His shoes tapped on the metal as he went in.  

Two stewards came out with their baggage, plopped it down, then scurried back inside.

“Have a nice journey, boys,” said one as they disappeared back into the shuttle.

The door vacuumed shut and sealed. Crowley and Aziraphale picked up their luggage.  The door on the other side of the room did not open.  The shuttle remained where it was.

“Ah…” said Aziraphale.  “Are we supposed to…do something?”

“You’re the one who read the pre-voyage materials,” said Crowley. 

A red light began to flash on the door in front of them, accompanied by an alarm that sounded like a foghorn.  The porthole at the far end popped open and swung outwards with a groan.  The two of them scuttled across the threshold, dragging and wheeling baggage behind them.  But they found themselves in a second room identical to the first, except this one had a small, squat window in the door at the far end of the room.

The door slammed shut behind them of its own accord.

“Uh….” said Crowley.

Aziraphale strode forwards and looked into the small window.  “I can’t really see anything.”

Crowley huffed and sat down on one of his suitcases.  He zipped the other one open and withdrew a potted plant.  It was in one of those fancy electronic pots that held all the soil in and regulated water levels.

“Ah good, he survived the baggage compartment.”

“Crowley!” said Aziraphale. “They were very clear that you’re not supposed to bring your own plants or animals on board!”

“Aw, what are they going to do about it?” said Crowley.  “Nick’s already here.”

“You’ve named it.”

“He was the best of the best of the best.  This spider plant is ninety-five years old and has risen to every challenge I’ve thrown at him.  I’ve decided to be nice to him now.  He’s proven himself.  We need something to liven up our cabin!  I’m sure it will be dreadful without at least one plant.”

The same red light and foghorn sounded in the empty room, and the door with the window whooshed outwards. 

“Come in, come in!” said a woman’s voice.

They dragged their things out the door into a metal hallway.  It was an infinite hallway, connecting rows and rows and rows of metal doors as far as the eye could see, until the unnoticeable curve became visible in the distance and the hallway dipped up and out of sight behind the ceiling.

Crowley blinked at it, fighting vertigo.

A perky woman in a blue vest smiled at them.  “Welcome aboard the _Aphelion,_ space explorers!”

As soon as her eyes fell on the plant in Crowley’s hands, she gasped and lunged at him.

“What are you doing?” Crowley yelled as she tried to wrestle it off him.

“Flora not from the approved greenhouse is strictly prohibited onboard the _Aphelion_!”

“Get off him!”

“I need to confiscate this, sir.”

“He never did anything to you!”

She finally managed to wrench the plant out of his hands, and she immediately threw it back through the door through which they had come and punched a button on the wall.  An alarm beeped and the door slammed shut.

“Hey!”  Crowley pressed against the door and peeked out the window. The plant was on its side on the floor. 

Another alarm sounded, and through the window Crowley could see the door at the far end of the antechamber open, revealing the black void of space dotted with stars and milky swirls of distant galaxies.  The plant flew out in the blink of an eye.

“Nick!” said Crowley. “No!  You murderer!” 

He turned away from the window. The woman was breathing heavily, and she smoothed back her hair and put her smile back on.  “Sir, we have a seed bank on board that contains upwards of 75% of the estimated plant species on Earth.  If you’d like a potted plant, you can get one from the greenhouse free of charge.”

“He didn’t deserve that.”

“Sir, if outside flora brings disease on board it would be an ecological disaster.  We’ve under strict quarantine.”

Crowley crossed his arms and glared at her sourly.

“Now, may I see your boarding passes, please?”

Aziraphale took his screen out of his pocket, pulled it open, and navigated the glassy surface to the information card they had given him.  Crowley was still muttering to himself as he took his out and followed suit.

“Oh, you two are in the F wing. Excellent choice,” she said.  “I’m partial to the third circle myself.  Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” 

The wheels of Aziraphale’s cart clattered on the metal grate beneath them as they moved forwards, down that logic-defying hallway.  “Did you say the third _circle_?” said Crowley.

Aziraphale elbowed him and whispered, “I told you to read the pre-voyage materials.”

They filed into an elevator, which ended up going more sideways than up or down.  Even given the fact that there were signs and arrows and maps spattering every inch of the walls, Aziraphale and Crowley immediately got lost.

The woman in the vest gestured to a door.  “Here you are, suite 889b!  If you need anything, my name is Maria and my contact information will be on the vidscreen in your room.  Have a nice day!”

She moved off, disappearing into the wall a distance off.  They both blinked, staring down the narrow hallway.

“This place gives me the creeps,” said Crowley.  “It’s like a big metal labyrinth.”

“The pre-voyage materials had a blueprint, dear,” said Aziraphale, swiping his screen in the slot on the door. “It wasn’t supposed to be a surprise to anyone.”

The door swung open.  Their room was small, with one decent-sized bed in the center and a pair of dressers and not much else. All the furniture was bolted to the floor, and the walls were bare except for a vidscreen that said:

YOUR VOYAGE ASSISTANT (VA) IS MARIA

CONTACT NUMBER 60.547.8

Crowley muttered under his breath and approached the vidscreen, tapping it and swiping, crossing out Maria’s name and writing _plant murderer._

Aziraphale collapsed his screen into its smallest shape and stuck it into the wall to charge.  “All right, Crowley, now that we’re here, I insist that you read the pre-voyage materials.  They had some very important information that you’ve simply missed.  You’re going to mess something up and get us in trouble because you won’t follow directions.”

Crowley gave him a dirty look and pulled his own screen out, sliding it open and tapping on it.  “All right, then, Mr. Follow-the-Rules.”

Aziraphale set about putting his clothes into his dresser.  Crowley threw himself on the bed, the materials from the _Aphelion_ management open on his screen.  “Ugh, Aziraphale this thing is like a thousand screens long!  It’ll take forever to get through it all.”

“It only took me a few hours, and I was taking notes.”

“Whatever, nerd.”  Crowley rolled over, holding the screen above his face, the light from the ceiling shining through the screen’s translucent, plasticky surface.  The first screen had a picture of the great metal donut herself, accompanied by the words WELCOME ABOARD, SPACE EXPLORERS

He flipped.  The second screen went on and on about the mission statement, to expand the human consciousness into the furthest reaches of the galaxy in the noblest way, etc.  He scrolled past that to the details about the star that served as their destination, Kepler-442 (K type star, nestled in the constellation Lyra), and its planet that would be their new home, Kepler-442b (exoplanet).  The days on Kepler-442b were three weeks long, and with an axial tilt _that_ small, say goodbye to seasons.

“It says it’s going to take us 500 years to get there going at twice the speed of light!” said Crowley. “They expect us to stay on here for 500 years?  Hey, angel, what’s this bit about cryosleep?”

Aziraphale’s face appeared above him, warped by the screen.  “Crowley, if you would actually _read_ it, you’d see that we’re going to live on the _Aphelion_ for about a month as it leaves the solar system, and then once we’re stable at light speed everyone on board is going to go into cryosleep until we reach our destination.  It’s the only way humans could actually live long enough to get to Kepler-442.”

Crowley collapsed his screen. “Hold on, angel.  You’re telling me we’re going to sleep for _500 years?_ ”

“Yes.”

“I get to sleep—”

“Yes, dear.”

“—for 500 years.  And not only is this _expected—_ ”

“Yes, Crowley.”

“—but it’s _mandatory?_ ”

Aziraphale stared at him for an additional second and then said, “Yes, Crowley.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” said Crowley, sliding his screen back open.  “This is fantastic!”

“Because I thought you had read it,” Aziraphale said testily.  He dragged Crowley’s suitcase over and began to unpack the demon’s things when it became obvious it wouldn’t get done otherwise. 

Crowley noted that the pods for cryosleep would come out of the floor of their cabin, but he failed to find where they would be appearing from.

_The_ Aphelion _will be your home for the next 500 years, although you’ll only perceive it to be a few months.  The living spaces are arranged in three circles.  The outermost and largest circle, the first circle, holds wings A, B, and C and is subject to 1.1G’s.  The second circle is slightly smaller and is maintained at exactly the same gravitational force as on Earth, and holds wings D and E.  Guests in wing F in the third and innermost circle can expect to live in 0.9G for their stay.  Each wing has its own greenhouse and set of amenities.  Non-authorized personnel are not allowed to move further than the third circle; the force of gravity decreases with the radius of the ship, and the ship’s engines and robotics are maintained at temperatures below zero. Please note that the_ Aphelion _is a perpetual motion machine; barring the event of catastrophic failure, the vessel always remains in motion and the outer circles should never experience zero-G.  Please rest assured that the AI programs that will control the ship during cryosleep are programmed to put the safety of the human passengers as its paramount goal._

_Since most of the processes on the_ Aphelion _are automated, most of its citizens do not need to work full 6-hours days as on Earth; however, depending on your profession, you may be summoned to lend your expertise at various points throughout the journey._

Crowley had been growing bored, but he snapped back to reality as he read the part about being called to help with the ship.  “Angel.”

“Hm?” said Aziraphale, not looking up from folding laundry.

“It says they might call us to help out depending on what our skillsets are.”

“Well, yes.  I told them I was a shopkeeper, so I had assumed I won’t be doing much until we establish settlements on the planet.”

Crowley bit his lip.

“Crowley?”

“So…do you remember how you asked me to pull some strings to get you in?”

“Yes.  Crowley…what did you do?”

“They wouldn’t take you because of the lame personnel profile you submitted!  I had to make some changes to it to get you on board!”

“Crowley, _what_ did you tell them my profession was?”

“I… _may_ have…told them that you were a robotics engineer.”

“Crowley!” said Aziraphale. “I don’t know anything about robotics! What am I going to do if they call me to help with something?”

“Just lie!” said Crowley. “A few miracles, they’ll never know the difference!”

“I can’t lie!  And I’m going to mess something up!  Bugger, Crowley!  What did you tell them _your_ profession was?”

“Botanist.”

“Of course!  The nice and easy one!  If you get called in all you need to do is prance around in the garden for a while and—”

The vidscreen on the wall suddenly flashed to life, vibrating and showing the microphone icon that indicated a call.  They both jumped with surprise, clutching each other.

They stared at the screen. The microphone vibrated.

“Ah…Hello?” said Crowley.

CROWLEY, said the voice from the screen.

“Bloody hell!” said Crowley, jumping again.

CROWLEY, WE NOTICED YOU DID NOT FOLLOW OUR INSTRUCTIONS TO STAY ON EARTH.

Crowley looked at the vidscreen fearfully.

COME BACK NOW, CROWLEY.  WE HAVE PLANS FOR YOU DOWN HERE.

Crowley’s hands tightened on Aziraphale’s arm.

CROWLEY?

“No,” he said.

WHAT?

“No, I’m not coming back down. There, I said it!”

The microphone icon vibrated ominously.

“I’m a space explorer, on a mission to expand the human consciousness into the furthest reaches of the galaxy in the noblest way, etc., and I’m staying up here!  What are you going to do about it?  Are you going to come up and drag me back down?”

More vibrating, no speaking. A smile began to dawn on Crowley’s face.

“You can’t, can you?”

WHAT?

“You can’t get up here.”

DON’T BE RIDICULOUS.  OF COURSE WE CAN. __

“You can’t!  Hah!  You don’t know how!”

CROWLEY, WE HAVE DONE INFERNAL WORK ON MARS BEFORE. 

“That was me.  I’m the only demon who’s ever left Earth.  Nobody else knows how to go about it, especially on such short notice.”

The icon vibrated in angry silence, and Crowley knew he had struck on the truth.  He fell onto the bed laughing.

“I’m going to be sent a zillion miles away where you can’t reach me because nobody down there could figure out how to get on the shuttle fast enough.”

IT’S NOT THAT FUNNY, CROWLEY.

“Amazing.  This is amazing.  I know you can’t see me right now, but I’m giving you the finger.”

YOU DARE TALK TO US LIKE THIS?

“It’s two fingers now.  All the way up.”

YOU’LL RECALL WE WERE SENDING ANOTHER AGENT, THOUGH.

Crowley’s smile faded.

WE HAVE PULLED A CHAOS DEMONESS STRAIGHT FROM THE PITS IN THE NINTH CIRCLE.  HER POWER IS SO TERRIFYING THAT SHE HAS BEEN LOCKED AWAY FOR MILLENIA. WE HAVE RELEASED HER ESPECIALLY FOR THIS MISSION.

Crowley began to shake with peals of laughter.

CROWLEY???  HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND??

“You sent a demoness who hasn’t set foot on Earth in thousands of years.  And who wouldn’t know jack shite about talking to humans, let alone operating technology.  To be your sole representative.   _On a space ship?_ ”

The icon vibrated.  IN RETROSPECT, IT DOES NOT SEEM TO HAVE BEEN THE IDEAL CHOICE. 

“Bloody hell!”

BUT WE HAVE REPORTS THAT SHE HAS ALREADY MANAGED TO BOOK A TICKET.

“Oh, has she?  How long did that take her?”

THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT.  SHE’S BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY, CROWLEY.  REMEMBER THAT.  GOODBYE.

The screen clicked off.

“Oof,” Crowley said, rolling over and throwing a hand over his face.  “Hey, angel, how much time did you say we had before we go into cryosleep?”

“A month from when all the passengers have boarded.”

Crowley heaved a sigh.  “I suppose we need to resolve this situation with the other demon onboard before we go under, then.”

“Why?”

“Put it this way.  We’ll be asleep, and we wouldn’t know if someone was, say, ejecting our pods out the airlock.”

“Point taken.”  Aziraphale turned back to the laundry.  “We can get started on that after you finish reading the materials.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On LJ at http://go-exchange.livejournal.com/199132.html  
> On tumblr at http://not-a-space-alien.tumblr.com/post/156219572085/to-ineffability-and-beyond

Crowley and Aziraphale eventually learned that they were in the tail-end of passengers boarding the ship. They were scheduled to depart one week after the angel and demon’s arrival, but they had to wait until everyone was on board first.

A week came and went.  No word of departure.  A second week.  They eventually learned that the delay was the result of waiting for one single passenger.

“Three guesses as to who that is,” said Crowley.  “Maybe if we can convince the crew to take off without her, we’ll avoid the situation altogether.”

“They calculated everything precisely, Crowley,” said Aziraphale.  “Maybe they don’t want to throw everything off this early?”

“They’ve already thrown it off by moving the takeoff date!  I’ve had enough of this.  I’m going to snoop around.”

With those words, Crowley left the room.  Aziraphale listened to his shoes clacking on the metal grate for a few moments before huffing and picking himself up to follow.

The infinite hallway was just barely big enough for the two of them to walk side-by-side.  “And what exactly do you propose to do?” Aziraphale whispered to him harshly.

“Well, we’re already in the third circle,” said Crowley.  “All we need to do is figure out how to go one up and we’ll be in the restricted sections. That’s where all the fun is bound to be.”

The two of them had been doing nothing but watching movies on the vidscreen in their room, reading, and walking back and forth to the third circle’s cafeteria for the past two weeks, and Aziraphale suspected that Crowley just wanted an excuse to goof off exploring the ship.  “We’re not allowed.”

“ _You’re_ not allowed.  I’m a demon, so I’m _supposed_ to do things that aren’t allowed.  If you don’t want to, you can go back to the cabin.”

“If I let you run around unsupervised, I’m sure you’ll get into dreadful trouble.”

“That’s the point.”  Crowley stopped, looking up.  “There, you see?  A maintenance tunnel.”

Aziraphale followed his upturned gaze to a hatch, barely visible as it was pressed into the ceiling. “It’s locked.”

Crowley twisted his hand, and four bolts fell out.  “No it isn’t.”

“Crowley, this isn’t a good idea.”

“Nonsense!  This is a great idea.  Give me a boost.”

Aziraphale eventually let himself be talked into letting Crowley sit on his shoulders so he could shift the metal pane aside and haul himself up into the ceiling.  The demon turned around in the narrow space and held his hand out.

“I’m not going up there,” sniffed Aziraphale.  “I’m sure something awful will happen.”

“Suit yourself,” said Crowley, shrugging.  “I guess I’ll just go off by myself then.”

“Oh no you don’t.  Help me up.”

The space in the ceiling was just big enough for one person to crawl through, and it was filled with pipes and storage tanks and electronic equipment.  Aziraphale had a good view of Crowley’s posterior as he crawled ahead.

“How did it manage to get dusty up here already?” said Crowley.  “The bloody ship isn’t that old.”

He crawled until he reached a solid wall of computers, at which point he felt around until he found a gap to climb over them.

“There’s a ladder back here,” he said.  “Come up, this must go up to the next layer.”

It was almost too dark to see; Crowley was a dim shape moving above him.  They demon must have been able to see, though, with those reflective eyes of his.  Aziraphale mostly went by the feel of the metal rungs in his hands, grateful that he was not the one leading.  He sighed with exasperation when the ladder ended and Crowley started into another crawlspace, sure that they would get lost at this rate.

Light began to filter down through a grate above them.  Crowley flipped over on his back and pushed the grate out with all four limbs.

“Crowley!”

The demon disappeared into the brightness above them.  Aziraphale dragged himself up and out to follow, only to find himself in a hallway that looked identical to the one on their floor.

“Hah,” said Crowley quietly as Aziraphale slid the grate back into place.  “They make the crew live separately from the other passengers at an even lower gravity level.”

“Crowley, we’re going to get caught if we stay here,” Aziraphale whispered.

“S’pose you’re right,” said Crowley.  “I’d hate to see what Maria will throw out the airlock next.  Come on.”

He strolled over and found another panel in the ceiling, which he promptly miracled open.  He did not need a boost this time; a single jump carried him far enough up to get his upper body into the roof.

Aziraphale finally gave into the temptation from seeing Crowley’s posterior in front of him this whole time and slapped his arse before the demon could get it up out of reach.  Crowley suppressed a squeal of surprise and made room for Aziraphale.  The angel likewise leapt and took Crowley’s hand to pull him up.

“You’re getting awfully handsy, aren’t you?” said Crowley as Aziraphale replaced the panel beneath them. Aziraphale looked into his eyes, glowing in the semidarkness, and shrugged innocently.

“Me?  I’m just an angel, my dear.  No impure thoughts here.”

“…I’m sure.”

They crawled forwards again, through the same layout of pipes and tanks and electronics, except feeling lighter this time.  They came to a similar ladder and climbed up again in near darkness.

Crowley stopped.  “What is it?” said Aziraphale.

“I see something.”

“Me too,” said Aziraphale, reaching up and pinching Crowley’s bottom.

“This is harassment,” said Crowley.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.  If you’re not careful I might have to start fighting back.”

“Mm, I’m sure you would.”

“I really do see something, though.”  Crowley twisted and leapt off the ladder, the reduced gravity making him soar through the air off into the distance.  Aziraphale hesitantly followed, not having quite as much faith in his leaping abilities.

When he landed next to Crowley, the demon had already taken his screen out of his pocket, collapsed it into its cylindrical shape, and activated its flashlight function.  He shined it around, the light illuminating dust motes on its way to hulking, looming shapes in the darkness, behemoths of glass and metal and plastic.

Crowley whistled.  “What’s all this?”

“The robotics, I’d imagine,” said Aziraphale.  “The colony is mostly going to be built with machines.”

Crowley started walking among the machines.  The stillness of the air combined with the way the robots looked like animals crouching to pounce made a spooky atmosphere.  He looked up at the tallest one, a drill, the tip soaring off so high his light dissipated into darkness before it could reach the top.

“Humans sure are amazing,” he said.

Crowley saw the hand coming before it could grope him, and he kept one hand on his flashlight and clamped the other on Aziraphale’s arm before it made contact.

“You think you’re naughty, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” said the angel, feeling silly.

Crowley smiled, leaning in towards him, brushing his nose against the angel’s cheek, as though for a kiss…

The sound of his hand smacking Aziraphale’s arse, and the subsequent yelp of surprise, resonated loudly in the empty space.

“Come on,” said Crowley.

They left the mechanical menagerie behind and found a door. It was extremely thick and sturdy and locked, but it was summarily unlocked especially for them.  They found yet another ladder and climbed up in near darkness.

A faint light began to appear in their vision as they neared the top. Crowley reached the end of the rungs and disappeared up over the lip of some faintly-lit ridge.

“Crowley?” said Aziraphale. He pulled himself up to follow.

Crowley was there, waiting with his face exactly where he knew Aziraphale’s would appear, planting a kiss on him. Aziraphale nearly fell off the ladder in surprise, but managed to hold on.

Crowley broke the kiss and pulled away, smiling.  “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”

The demon turned and sat cross-legged on the floor; Aziraphale slid up next to him and followed his gaze.

A huge open space soared in front of them, a hollow cylinder filled with bundles of very thick cables, and Aziraphale realized they must be looking at the inside of one of the spokes radiating from the center of the wheel of the ship.  A blue glow radiated from the top, shifting about vaguely like a lava lamp.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” said Crowley.

Aziraphale reached one arm out and leaned Crowley onto his shoulder.  “I think so.”

Aziraphale’s hand rubbed his back, then sunk lower.

“Hey!” Crowley laughed. “You—!”

“Me what?”

“You!”  Crowley pushed him away, walking over to the chasm.

“Crowley, why don’t we go back to our room?  We could…hm?”

Crowley was examining the cords stretching off into infinity in either direction; they were moving so fast and so quietly that the movement was almost imperceptible.

“Crowley, don’t.”

“We must be down to less than half a G, don’t you think, angel?  This feels about the same as it was on Mars.  We must be getting closer to the center of the ship.”

“Crowley, whatever you’re thinking of doing, _don’t_ —”

But it was too late; Crowley had already given one amplified leap off the precipice.  He caught onto the cords, and with a flash his body disappeared out of sight almost immediately.

“Crowley!”  Aziraphale rushed over the edge and looked down, then up. He could see Crowley zooming upwards at an alarming speed.  “Ooh, that insufferable demon.”  The angel looked at the cords, trying to decide how he could go about it without hurting his hands, then deciding he’d have to live with it and heal himself afterwards.  He threw himself off and grabbed a cord.

He had to cheat a little to let himself hold on; the wall panels were a blur of motion in his peripheral vision. The blue light was growing closer and more intense, casting strange, angular shadows.  The air grew colder.

The place where the cord met some junction of machinery was coming up, and Aziraphale threw himself off, heedless of direction, to avoid smashing into it.  Disoriented, he found that his body did not go back down as predicted, but instead continued in a straight line, spinning over and over.  “Ah!”

A hand caught his foot and wrenched him, changing his course sharply.  He found himself in Crowley’s arms, who was also likewise floating in midair. His cheeks were flushed red with cold, and his laughing made billows in the air.  “You know, for someone who’s actually flown under his own power before, you’re not very graceful in the air.”

Crowley must have cheated to dispel some of their momentum; they slowed and stabilized in the air. Aziraphale looked up at the source of the blue light; a great metal box hung suspended above them, and whatever was inside was throwing out unstable light through the slats in the box.

“Is that the engine?” Aziraphale gasped.  “Crowley, we shouldn’t be so close to it.”

“Don’t worry, angel, they’ve got in a cage, see?  It can’t get to us.”

Aziraphale gave him an unamused look.

“Seriously, though, there’s a barrier between us and it.  A clear one, I mean.  It’s rock solid.  I felt it when I smashed into it.  Nothing getting into that thing.”

The two just floated there in each other’s arms.  The blue light lit Crowley’s face and highlighted his cheekbones, his animalistic eyes flashing in the electric illumination.  The demon leaned in and kissed Aziraphale, hands caressing the angel’s face.

“I’m so glad we’re here together,” said Crowley.

“Likewise,” said Aziraphale, encircling Crowley’s waist with his arms.

The stillness was underscored by the low resonance of the static of the powerful machine in the room, the two supernatural beings drifting in the air, free of prying eyes, Heaven and Hell and Earth, free of even gravity, lost in each other in the darkness and quiet only broken by the electronic light and hum, their only company the pulsing, writhing luminescence.

Crowley lowered himself down, keeping his arms around Aziraphale’s thighs, and undid the angel’s zipper with a thought. 

Aziraphale gave an unhinged moan and tangled his fingers in Crowley’s hair.  “Oooh…  You weren’t lying about….not being able to wait, were you?” 

Crowley made the small, wheedling sounds that he always did during this activity, devouring with fervor, his hands raking down Aziraphale.  The angel’s legs wrapped around him.

Floodlights suddenly illuminated them from below, and Crowley broke off, his pupils contracting in the sudden light. 

A woman in a blue vest with salt-and-pepper hair scowled at them from the floor, floating with one hand on a handle by the door.  Aziraphale hastily re-did his pants. 

“Come down from there!” said the newcomer, with an angry gesture at the door behind her.

“Er…”  Aziraphale looked around, Crowley still locked between his legs, and realized there weren’t any handholds nearby.  “We’re sort of stuck!”

The woman gave a disgusted sigh and threw out a rope with a weight attached on the end, which soared in a straight line right at them.  The small sphere hit Crowley in the back of the head, which seemed to have been the intended target.  The two of them used it to shimmy down, growing redder and more shamefaced as they got nearer to the woman.

Aziraphale steadied himself on the handhold on the opposite side of the door, and Crowley steadied himself on Aziraphale.  The woman was flushed with anger and struggled to find words as they waited for whatever was surely coming.

“You know,” she finally said. “At first I thought you two were saboteurs of some kind and then I come down and find _this?_ ”

“Er…” said Aziraphale.  “Sorry.”

“You _would_ have been sorry if you two dumbasses had messed something up and killed us all.  These areas are off-limit for a reason.  What do you have to say for yourselves?”

“Er…please don’t tell the higher-ups?” Crowley tried. 

The woman snorted.  “Hard to get higher than the captain, mate.”

“ _You’re_ the captain?”

“Who did you expect?  Captain Kirk?”

“Ah.”

“Luckily for the two of you, we’ve already left earth’s orbit and there’s no way to disembark now.  You’re stuck onboard, or I’d have you sent back. I ought to throw both of you out the airlock.”

“We’ve left Earth?  But I thought we were waiting for our last passenger.”

“Who just got on this morning. We set off the second she was on board.” The captain scrutinized them. “How exactly did the two of you make it this far?  There were several layers of locked doors between here and the third circle.”

“Ah.”  They both fidgeted.  “We ah…one of the staff left their key lying around.” 

She extended her hand. “Give it to me.”

They looked around the room, anywhere but her eyes.

“ _Give it to me._ ”

Aziraphale reached into his pocket and pulled out a card that had not previously been there.  He sincerely hoped it was what the staff keycards looked like, because he couldn’t remember exactly. 

Fortunately the captain put the card in her pocket without much scrutiny.  “All right.  Now let’s go. You’re going back to your suite. And you’re going to stay there.   _Right?_ ”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both muttered.

“Good.”  She went hand-over-hand into the door behind her, where a rung of handholds on the wall ran off into the distance.  She used them to propel herself down the hallway, easily rocketing through the shaft with just her arms.  The angel and demon followed, shamed into silence. 

They followed the hallway until they reached an elevator, which _ding_ ed open at their approach.  An empty wheelchair hovered in the enclosed space, and the captain, still huffing with indignation, strapped her legs into it.  She pounded the controls as soon as Aziraphale and Crowley were inside and the door slid shut.

“Honestly,” she said.  “ _Honestly._ You’re both adults.  I would have expected this from horny teenagers, not scientists and engineers.”

They both shuffled their feet, which did not have quite the same effect when they were not on the floor.

Gravity began to pull harder on them as the cart moved further and further down.  “Did you not think we would see you?  We have cameras everywhere.”

Crowley rubbed the back of his head.  “Eheh…It was my idea…Sorry about that…”

The wheelchair finally touched the floor with a clatter.  The captain glared at him and knocked on the control panel.  The doors opened, revealing the walkway to the third circle. She jerked her head, and they scuttled out of the elevator.

She accompanied them all the way to their room, still muttering.

“Well, it was nice meeting you!” said Aziraphale, swiping to open their door.

“ _Don’t,_ ” said the captain, wheeling herself away.

The mechanical _whirr_ of the wheels on her chair faded into the distance.  They both exhaled, came into the room, shut the door, and burst into embarrassed laughter. They collapsed onto the bed together. __

“Oh, somebody,” said Crowley. “I thought we were goners.”

“I told you something was going to happen,” said Aziraphale, tweaking the demon’s nose.  

Crowley crawled over and buried his face in Aziraphale’s stomach, still laughing.  “I didn’t think it would be _that,_ thought.”

“Yes….But what she told us.”

Crowley looked up.  “The other demon.  She’s onboard.”

Aziraphale looked troubled. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

Crowley rolled over.  “Okay, cool.  Just the two of us, another demon, and a metal donut full of humans hurdling off into deep space.  When I met Adam in the Garden, somehow I never pictured this being a likely scenario for the future.”

“The universe certainly is full of surprises.”

* * *

“Attention on all decks. This is your captain speaking.  I am pleased to announce that as of this morning, the _Aphelion_ is fully boarded, staffed, and ready for its interstellar journey.  We will be following the trajectory of the _New Frontiers_ space probe to reach Kepler-442 in approximately 523 years from today.  The ship has already left Earth’s orbit and is currently passing Mars and building speed. When the time comes, please follow all directions your VA gives you regarding entering cryosleep.  And this is an additional reminder that all decks above the third circle are strictly _off-limits_ to all passengers except those authorized by the _Aphelion_ crew to work in lower than 0.9G.  I would like to reiterate that the upper decks contain sensitive equipment that may be damaged if not handled properly and are _off-limits._  Thank you, and welcome aboard, space explorers.”  

Aziraphale and Crowley adopted a routine of sorts.  Crowley eventually gave in and went to the greenhouse, coming back with another spider plant in a pot, upon which he scrawled “Nick Jr.” with a black marker. Watering and talking to Nick Jr. was the first item of business of the day, followed by breakfast, brooding, lunch, and more brooding.  Dinner was served at 6:30pm, and usually they had enough time left for one last brooding session before bed. 

Crowley sat with his arms crossed, staring angrily at his screen, as though if he let it know he was angry enough with it, it would give him answers.

“There’s thousands of people on this ship.  There’s no way we can count on running into her on accident.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Aziraphale, sitting on the bed reading a selection from his library of books, and who had not done his fair share of the brooding that day.

Crowley pulled his screen out so that it was fully extended and tapped on it rapidly.  “I’ve tried every angle of attack I can think of to hack into the database where everyone’s personal information is stored.  But I was never very good at hacking.”

He sounded very sad about it.  Perhaps he was thinking of the forty-second James Bond movie, which had taken place entirely inside a computer frame and had also not been scientifically accurate. Trying to miracle the database earlier had not worked and had produced some strange results.   

“Yes, dear,” said Aziraphale.

“Aziraphale, this is serious! We might be in real danger if we can’t locate this other demon before we go under.”

“Of course,” said Aziraphale, not looking up.

“You’re not even listening!” Crowley huffed.  “You’re useless, as always.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

The day for cryosleep drew nearer and nearer.  One day the captain came over the intercom and announced that they had reached light speed.

“That was when we were going to sleep, wasn’t it?” said Crowley frantically.  “When we reached light speed?  It’s going to be any day now.”

“Crowley, she hasn’t shown any signs of aggression at all,” said Aziraphale.  “Maybe we needn’t worry about her.  Maybe she doesn’t even know we’re on board.”

Crowley did not seem convinced and remained glued to his screen even up to the very hour when they heard the first circle had started the process to enter cryosleep.

“Oh,” he said.

Aziraphale had been staring into the cryopods, which had been revealed when a panel in the floor had slid back and were currently filling with a blue liquid of some sort, but now he looked up.  “What is it?”

“They’ve...This is different now. They must have shuffled things in the system around in preparation for cryosleep.  I can access the personnel files now.”

“What!” said Aziraphale, coming over to lean over his shoulder.  “Really?  You are good at hacking after all!”

Crowley tapped his screen rapidly. “And….there’s the boarding log…if I can access it…  Yes! Now let’s see who was the last person to board.”

“She’s in the first circle,” said Aziraphale, pointing.  “Room 467.”

“Let’s go,” said Crowley, folding his screen up.

They both cautiously peeked their heads out the door.  A woman in a blue vest was hovering near the door and came over as soon as she saw them.

Crowley groaned.  “Hello, Maria.”

“Hello, boys,” she said. “Did you need something?  We’re still on schedule for going into cryosleep, so you should stay in your room unless it’s something urgent.”

“Okay, you know what, Maria?” He snapped his fingers.  Her face went blank, eyes unfocused.

“Crowley,” whispered Aziraphale harshly.

Crowley brushed by her, storming down the hallway.  “I’m a _demon_ , Aziraphale, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some human push me around.  The hypnosis will wear off in a minute and she’ll forget she ever saw us leave.”

Aziraphale stared awkwardly at Maria for a moment, then patted her shoulder and said, “Ah, you’re doing a very good job,” before hurrying to follow Crowley. 

They found the staircase and passed the second layer, then continued down to the first.  

A sign on the door said NO ENTRY. But the door opened with some gentle persuasion. 

Another cheerful helper in a blue vest descended upon them as soon as they came in.  “This section has already completed the transition to cryosleep, gentlemen, and we’re in the process of locking it down, so if you could just—”

He was taken care of with another snap of the fingers.  “Um, you’re doing a good job, too,” Aziraphale said as he passed him.

“Room 467,” he said.  “Here it is.”

They took up positions on opposite sides of the door.  “Are you ready, angel?”

He wished he still had his flaming sword, but it was far too late to think about that now.  “I’m ready.”

With a thought, the door lock disengaged, and Crowley kicked the door open dramatically.

The room was empty and quiet, except for the steady beeping of a pulse.

They drew into the room cautiously, then looked down into the cryopod half-sticking up out of the ground. There was somebody inside it, fully submerged, eyes closed.  Her canine teeth were just a little too long and stuck out even with her mouth closed.

“Oh,” said Crowley.

“Oh,” said Aziraphale.

“I…I guess we needn’t have worried after all.”

“There’s no way she can…I don’t know…wake herself up halfway through, can she?”

Crowley palmed the glass of the chamber.  “I…I don’t know.  I mean, I guess not.  I wouldn’t know how to do that.”

“Oh.”

_Beep.  Beep. Beep._

“We could…”  Aziraphale grimaced.

“What?”

“We…well, it’s just going to be the two of us and her for the rest of eternity on Kepler-442b…if we felt inclined, we have the opportunity to make the rest of our lives a lot easier right now.”

“We…You’re suggesting we should…”

“I wouldn’t know how to move the cryopod, but we could figure it out.  We could do what Maria did to Nick.”

The suggestion hung in the air. Crowley’s face pinched.  “I mean…she might be decent.”

“I suppose?”

“Doesn’t seem very sporting.”

“Demons usually aren’t sporting.”

“So you’re a demon now?”

“You know what I meant.”

Crowley tapped the glass. “I…”

They both stared at her.

_Beep.  Beep. Beep._

“Come on, angel,” said Crowley, withdrawing.  “We both know we’re not going to do it.  Let’s get back up to our own room.  I’m about ready for that 500-year nap right about now.”

Aziraphale took his hand as they exited.  “Likewise.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On LJ at http://go-exchange.livejournal.com/199301.html  
> On tumblr at http://not-a-space-alien.tumblr.com/post/156220060345/to-ineffability-and-beyond

The first thing Crowley became aware of as he drifted towards wakefulness was the fact that he was cold. Damn cold. Surely this must be how cold it was in the depths of space.

The second was the fact that he was drowning.

He had been discorporated in the 1100’s by falling off a boat and drowning in the ice-cold Atlantic Ocean. This is what it had felt like, and his body began to urge him to remedy the situation somehow.

He began to thrash.  His hand broke the surface of whatever he was submerged in, only to hit something solid above it.  He shoved both hands upwards as hard as he could against that surface, desperate to break through it to whatever freedom he was sure was on the other side.

The glassy surface yielded and swung up and out of the way.  Warm air flooded in at him in a wave.  Still flailing, he pulled himself upright, retching violently.  A viscous blue liquid came pouring out of his mouth, and he heaved, emptying his lungs, blindly grabbing for something solid with which to steady himself.

Air finally rushed into his lungs, and he sucked in one, two, three deep breaths.  He managed to grab onto the edge of his receptacle, and he lowered his head onto it, shivering and gasping.

“Are you all right?”

Crowley looked up. Aziraphale was a few feet away, likewise in a pod filled with liquid, looking as befuddled and bewildered as Crowley felt.  His lips were blue.

Crowley managed to nod.  He looked over at the vidscreen.

WELCOME TO KEPLER-442b, it told him.  PLEASE FEEL FREE TO TAKE A WARM SHOWER.

Crowley heaved a sigh, rubbing his eyes.  “Christ!” he yelled.

“What is it?” said Aziraphale, wobbling to his feet, splashing.

“Christ!”

“What about him?”

“That wasn’t a nap at all! That was awful!”

Aziraphale stepped out of his cryopod, but slipped as his slick foot hit the floor.  He held onto the edge and gracefully descended into a sitting position.  “Well, we _were_ asleep.  I don’t know what more you expected.”

“Naps are warm!  And you have nice dreams!  That was a rip-off!”  Crowley suddenly realized he was still chest-deep in the freezing cryopod.  He stood, liquid draining off his stomach and thighs and splashing back into the pod.  That was when he remembered that he was completely naked.

“Christ,” he muttered.

“I thought your kind wasn’t supposed to swear to Him,” said Aziraphale.

“Well it’s not like he can hear me all the way out here!” Crowley said.  “God, we’ve been asleep for 500 years and the first thing you do when we wake up is start sniping at me about my language.  I’m going to the loo.”

He trailed cold cryo-liquid across the floor as he stepped out and pattered to the bath.  He turned the temperature all the way to the red and activated the shower.

“Oh…” he moaned as the scalding water rolled over him.  “Ooooohhhh…”

There was suddenly a second body in the space with him.  Crowley moved defensively like a snake protecting its sunning spot.

Aziraphale reached past him and turned the flow volume up.  “There’s enough water for both of us, you silly serpent.”

They both stood still for a few moments, the enclosed space quickly filling with steam.

“Mmmmm…” murmured Crowley.

He felt Aziraphale’s fingers combing through his wet hair.  “I’m glad to see you again, my dear.”

Crowley turned so that he was facing Aziraphale.  “Likewise.”

They were both surprisingly tired for two people having just woken up from 500 years of sleep.  Crowley made the mistake of leaning into Aziraphale’s shoulder; he ended up falling asleep like that, standing fully upright with the hot water rolling over his back.  Aziraphale picked a few stray pieces of goop from the cryopod out of his hair, then did his best to reach the shampoo without removing his shoulder from underneath the demon.

Crowley’s eyes flicked open as Aziraphale rinsed the conditioner out of his hair, but he pretended he had been awake the whole time.

“Your hair’s gotten quite a bit longer,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley reached up and fingered one wet curl on the angel’s hair.  “So has yours.”

As soon as he was out of the shower, Aziraphale set about filing his nails down, muttering about how unpresentable they were.  Crowley staggered over to the corner of the room where his plant was.  The entire alcove was filled with a mass of dry, moldy, ancient leaves.  Apparently, in their absence, the plant had exploded in size, flourished—and perished, a potted empire that marched on and then withered without them.

“Nick Jr.,” said Crowley. “Noooooo….”

“Don’t suppose even a fancy container would be enough to keep it alive for 500 years,” said Aziraphale. “Suppose you should have waited.”

Crowley glared at him.  He then angrily made his way out of the room.

Aziraphale muzzily continued on with his nails.  He then made an attempt at trying to dress himself.  The demon returned a few minutes later, a new plant in his muddy hand, the exposed roots trailing dirt behind him.

“Did you… Dear, did you walk all the way to the greenhouse without dressing yourself?”

Crowley looked at him blearily. “Hm?  Oh.  S’pose I did.”

“Crowley!”

“Well it’s not like I was the only one!”

“What?”

“And you’re one to talk. You’re trying to shove your leg into a shirt sleeve.”

Aziraphale looked down at his clothes as if he had just noticed.  

Crowley walked over to the potted plant, took the pot with one hand, and dumped the dirt and dead plant directly onto the floor.  “I’m sure Nick Jr. Jr. will have better luck,” he said, shoving the new plant into the pot without bothering to try and cover the roots.

A sound beeped at them.  Both looked over at the vidscreen to see that the message marquee had scrolled to say PLEASE STAY IN YOUR CABINS UNTIL THE DISORIENTATION ASSOCIATED WITH CRYOSLEEP WEARS OFF.

“Oh,” they both said together.

Crowley knelt on the bed and touched the vidscreen with one dirt-stained hand.  He flipped through all the screens the board had to offer, stopping on the last one.

A video feed of a planet. It was muted purple, homogenous in appearance.  There were two moons perched around it.  An orange star blazed in the background.

“Ha!” said Crowley. “Angel!  Welcome to Kepler-442!”

* * *

I’ll get right to the point without mincing words.  Kepler-442b turned out to be dreadful.

They found that the atmosphere was not suitable for breathing after all.  They had been prepared for this possibility, but it meant that they would have to spend the first few hundred years with gas pumps increasing the oxygen content and filtering out the neurotoxins that laced the planet while the settlers were confined to an enormous dome.  And of course since the planet was barren and lifeless with rocks as far as the eye could see, they would have to put down a foundation of soil before any farming could be done.  The crops would have to stay under the dome with them until the atmosphere was suitable for growing carbon-based lifeforms.  No oceans and an undeveloped atmosphere meant no greenhouse effect and little temperature moderation, so the average temperature was around -40 degrees Celsius.  It looked like it was going to take a millennium before they would be walking on the surface of a green, earth-like planet.  There was so much work to be done.

Robots were going to be doing most of it, of course, so it was not particularly burdensome on the settlers. But it was a long time to wait. Their children would never know the feeling of grass under their feet.  The _Aphelion_ crew began to talk of possibly going against orders from Earth and moving to a different planet that might be a bit easier, but as they turned their telescopes to the sky, nothing more suitable appeared.  Even barren, rocky 442b was more hospitable than its neighbors, which were gas giants, had oppressive gravity, rained shards of glass, or had an atmosphere so thick it would burn up a ship trying to enter it.  One planet seemed to be made entirely of compressed carbon, and it glittered like a diamond.  It was beautiful, and seeing it hovering in the cold, lifeless backdrop of stars really drove home the point of exactly how alien of a world they had stepped into.

They stowed their complaints and sent down the robots in waves to set up the colony.  After a while, a few humans would occasionally travel to the surface on one of the shuttles.  

It took a few months. Aziraphale and Crowley kept expecting to run into trouble with the other demon, but she kept to herself, mostly. Once they passed each other in the hallway and she had behaved strangely, making challenging eye contact, only to shy away and run in the opposite direction. 

They were hovering fairly close over the surface of Kepler-442b, so the dome being constructed was visible from space with the naked eye.  The settlers tracked its progress expectantly, not so much eager to get _onto_ the planet as to get _off_ the _Aphelion_ , which was starting to grow even more boring and cramped than it had seemed before they went into cryosleep.

Finally, they began to shuttle the residents down.  This turned out to be not as much of an improvement as had been thought.

The gravity on Kepler-442b was 30% stronger than on Earth, and not even the _Aphelion_ ’s 1.1G residents were used to such a dramatic pull.  As a consequence, everyone was always tired, as though they had been carrying around extra weight all day.  The artificial day-night cycles from the _Aphelion_ were gone as well, and on Kepler-442b there would be a few weeks of daylight during which everyone had trouble sleeping, followed by a few weeks of nighttime during which everyone had trouble staying awake.  The star was much bigger in the sky than the sun had been, and even though the bubble dome filtered out harmful rays and maintained the atmosphere, everyone got sunburned easily.  It also did an inadequate job of maintaining the temperature—it was parka weather 24/7. This combination of factors kept everybody inside most of the time and in a perpetual state of crankiness and low energy.  It was a good thing that most of the processes keeping the colony running and expanding were automated, because the humans on Kepler-442b sure weren’t up for the task. 

Crowley developed permanent bags under his eyes.  Aziraphale fell asleep on his screen while he was reading.  In those moments when they slept deeply enough to dream, they both dreamt of Earth.  Crowley began to think that even torture in Hell would have kept him more stimulated than this.

Currently, Crowley was sitting on the crest of a rocky hill at the edge of the dome, smoking an artificial cigarette.  It was in the middle of the weeks-long night, and he was stargazing, trying to find new constellations in the sky around both moons.

There was a _whirr_ sound beside him.  He looked over, raising his head just enough to catch sight of a wheel out of the corner of his eye.

“Can I bum a cigarette?” said the captain’s voice.

Crowley sighed and lifted his box up.  She took one.

“Bah,” she said.  “I hate these things.  Me and my friends always knew where to find the real ones back before tobacco went extinct.”

The fact that her voice was so gravelly suddenly made sense.  “And how are you on this fine evening, captain?” he said.

Despite her complaints, she lit the cigarette up.  “Fine, I suppose.  Yourself?”

“Been better.  Been worse, too.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, looking up at the stars.

“Do you miss Earth?” said the captain.  “You do, don’t you?  I can tell.”

“More than I care to admit,” he said softly.  “Don’t you?”

“I can’t say that I do,” she said. “I was getting to that age when all your friends start dying around you. You’d be too young to understand that, I suppose.”

A trail of smoke wisped from Crowley’s cigarette.  “I rather doubt that.”

“What?”

He turned his gaze back towards the sky.  “The constellations are different.  It bothers me more than I thought it would.” 

“We can make up our own constellations, now, if we want.”

Crowley was thinking of when the constellations on Earth had been named.  He had been there for that event in a few different civilizations’ histories. He still didn’t understand how they picked the shapes out when they looked nothing like their namesakes.  He took a drag.  “I suppose.”

The captain flicked her cigarette. “We can give them any names we want and our descendants will have to use them.  Hah.  Wonder what they’ll think of the _Aphelion._  It’s going to be in orbit long after all of us are dead.”

Crowley shifted his gaze to the circular starship, still buzzing with motion in the sky, looking so close and yet so far away.  “You think so?”

“They weren’t joking when they said he was a perpetual motion machine.  He’s completely self-sustaining.  It’s going to take something really catastrophic for him to stop spinning.”

“He?  Aren’t ships usually _she?_ ”

The captain laughed.  “Oh, no, the _Aphelion_ is definitely a man.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it’s only good for spreading seeds around where they don’t belong.”

A faint smile lifted at the corner of Crowley’s lips.  He took another drag.  “I don’t know if I’d say we don’t _belong_ here.  Isn’t that what humans are all about?  Furthering the edges of known territory?”

“It’s only been a few months and it’s blatantly obvious humans aren’t meant for this place.  It wouldn’t surprise me if we couldn’t breed here after all, and we all just died out and left the ghosts of a civilization and a space craft spinning for a million years in orbit.”

“That’d be all that’s left for the aliens to find.”

She gave a chuckle.  “Now there’s a thought.  It’d take some aliens to liven up this place.  Too bad there aren’t any here.”

“You don’t know that there aren’t any.”

She gave another laugh, and then trailed off.  “Oh…you’re serious.”  She blew smoke out.  “Sorry, kid, but if aliens exist, they aren’t on Kepler-442b.  Unless you count us, because we could definitely be considered aliens.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Look,” she said.  “There is _nothing_ on the surface of this planet but rocks and dirt.  It’s so cold out that if you went to take a leak your piss would freeze mid-stream.  There’s nothing here but volcanos and—”

“Volcanos?” said Crowley, furrowing his brow.  “I don’t see any volcanos.”

The captain gestured to the horizon.  “They’re underground.  Can’t see ‘em, but it wouldn’t surprise me if we had another Pompeii early in our future.”

“I never heard anybody mention volcanos before.”

“Kind of hard to see them unless you’re close up.  Geologists saw ‘em when we scanned the planet from orbit.  Nobody else really seemed interested, so we didn’t bother investigating further.”

“But they’re underground? How do they know they’re volcanos?”

“Heat signatures.”

“They only saw heat signatures?”

“Kid, what else is going to make a heat signature that looks like a volcano except a volcano?  If the geologists say they’re volcanos, then they’re volcanos.”

Crowley’s attention was on the dark, rocky horizon now.  He stubbed his cigarette on the ground and flicked it off into a pile that evidenced he had completed this activity many times before.  “You people.  I thought humans were supposed to be the imaginative ones.  The lack of oxygen must be getting to your brains.”

The captain turned her wheels to face Crowley as he got up and staggered off.  “Hey,” she called after him.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Crowley didn’t answer, his back towards her.  She glowered in the darkness, the tip of her cigarette smoldering, and turned back towards the vast expanse of the empty planet.

* * *

Aziraphale was face down on his desk when Crowley walked into the tiny apartment that they shared.  “Oh, how was your walk, dear?” he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Crowley huffed as he sat down on the bed.  “Fine, I guess.”

Aziraphale stood and made his way over to Crowley, massaging his shoulders.  “A little stressed out?”

Crowley crossed his arms. “Hmph.  No.”

“No?”  Aziraphale’s hand moved down Crowley’s back to the seam of his waistband.  “Are you sure there’s nothing I can’t take your mind off of?”

“Not now, Aziraphale, I’m not in the mood.”

“Are you sure?  You could just lie back and I’ll--”

“I said I’m not in the mood!” Crowley stood, leaving Aziraphale on the bed alone.  “I swear to somebody you just got hornier after we came down onto the planet.”

“Sorry.”

“…That’s all right.”

“Do you want to talk about what’s got you down, though?”

Crowley crossed his arms. “The captain of the _Aphelion_ doesn’t believe there could be aliens here.”

Aziraphale twiddled his thumbs. “Well, she’s right you know.”

“She’s—Aziraphale!  I thought out of anyone, _you_ might believe in the possibility with all that talk about ineffability or whatever!”

“The planet is empty, Crowley. We’re finally here, on the surface of the planet, and it’s still empty.  What more do you want?”

Crowley scowled at him. “Well, she said there were _heat signatures_ underground.  Huh?  What do you make of that?”

Aziraphale sighed.  “I’m so sorry, Crowley.  I know you’re bored, but this isn’t really a good way to entertain yourself. Why don’t we put on a film and—”

“Heat signatures, Aziraphale!”

“Crowley, those are volcanos.”

Crowley stopped.  “They aren’t!  It’s an alien civilization, I know it is!”

Aziraphale took his screen out of his pocket, unrolled it, and tapped on it to navigate.  “They sent out a copy of the geothermal map to everyone, you know,” he said, rotating it so that Crowley could see.  “What does this look like?”

Crowley bent over and peered at the map.  It was of the upper layers of Kepler-442b, cross-sectioned and with rivulets of red and yellow flowing and glittering under the surface.  Undeniably, it looked like a series of volcanos.

He stuck his nose in the air. “It’s an alien civilization.”

“Crowley, it’s only a few meters wide at certain points!”

“It’s a very narrow, very hot alien civilization.”

“What, inside the volcano?”

“It’s not a volcano!” Crowley yelled, knocking Aziraphale’s screen out of his hand.  “Why won’t you admit there could be aliens on the planet with us?”

Aziraphale rubbed his temples. “All right, Crowley, it’s because I don’t think _He_ would have made an entire other civilization of thinking beings separate from Earth, all the way out here where the odds of us ever encountering them are a trillion to one.  There’d be no point.  You think there’d be little green angels and demons and a separate alien Hell and Heaven?  It doesn’t make sense.  Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Crowley was seething.  He lifted one finger and pointed it at the angel. “You know what?”

“What?”

“Fuck you!” said Crowley, dragging his heavy jacket back on.  “Fuck you, Aziraphale!  I know there are aliens out here!”

“Oh, and you’re going to go find them, are you?”

“Maybe I will!”

“Well, have fun!  You’d be walking out alone for days and days! You’ll get bored in a couple of hours and come crawling back!”

“Maybe I will and maybe I won’t!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Aziraphale was still incensed a few hours later.  He let a few films run in front of his eyes without really absorbing them.  He had expected Crowley to come back shortly, embarrassed, and sheepishly cuddle up next to him, and Aziraphale would hug him closer and comfort him and they would fall asleep together.  The fact that Crowley did not behave as expected only made Aziraphale more irritated with him, but even when he was angry he could not cease to worry and fuss.  He huffed and stomped over to his screen and opened a communication line with whoever was on duty keeping an eye on the dome.  Authorized personnel could take atmosphere suits to go out into the open air when they had business out there, and he suspected Crowley would have miraculously convinced them to give him one if he had been serious.  

“I’m looking for my partner and I think he might have tried to cross the barrier.  Have you had any unexpected personnel come by lately?”

He was informed that one of their atmosphere suits had been taken and was still unaccounted for, and there had been an unauthorized exit from the bubble that was currently being investigated. Aziraphale thanked them and hung up.

He crossed his arms and sat on the couch.  There was no reason to worry.  Crowley wasn’t stupid, and he’d come back as soon as he realized how silly this game was. 

It was still in the middle the night cycle, so Aziraphale ended up dozing on the couch for who knows how long. He was awoken by a demonic presence outside his door.

“There you are!” he growled, swinging the door open.  “I was worried about you.”

He stopped, because he was not looking at Crowley at all.  It was the other demon, the one who hadn’t really engaged them at all.  She looked back at him politely.

“Hello,” she said.  “I don’t think we’ve officially met yet.  My name’s Lily.”

She extended her hand. Aziraphale shook it nervously. “Ah…hello…my name’s Aziraphale…May I ask to what I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Angel, I—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“Don’t call me ‘angel.’”

The other demon clapped her hands together in a gesture of supplication.  “Angel, I am begging you.   _Begging_ you.  Please, start a fight with me.”

“Ah, I—what?”

She dragged her hands down her face, pulling down her eyelids.  “This is _so boring._ This is the most boring thing I’ve ever done.  Please, just a sword fight or something.  I can’t stand these mind games we’ve been playing with each other so far.”

Mind games?  Aziraphale imagined Lily trying to do subtle things to get his attention and then interpreting his silence as a deliberate response, a game of cat-and-mouse only one of them was aware was ongoing.  Did she even know that Crowley was here too?

“Er, well you can forget all that nonsense about a fight,” he said.  “Mine is supposed to be a nonviolent mission.  You’ll have to find something else to keep you entertained, I’m afraid.”

“Aw, come one!”  She threw her hands in the air.  “I’m an agent of the evil one!  Don’t you want to smite me?”

“Not really.”

She huffed angrily and stomped into the room, pushing past him.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

She kicked the stand upon which Crowley’s plant sat; the pot shattered as it hit the ground, and she viciously stomped the leaves.  “Ha!” she said, continuing her violent onslaught on the innocent greenery. “There, I’m destroying your plant! Doesn’t that just make you mad enough to hit me?” 

Aziraphale was still standing with his hand on the doorknob.  “Er…that wasn’t mine, actually.”

She boiled over with frustration. “You’re pathetic!  Useless!  You hear me! What kind of angel won’t even fight a demon?”

Aziraphale stuck his nose in the air and pointed out the door.  “One who’s had enough of this!  I’ll kindly ask you to leave my home!”

Lily seemed to deflate.  She trudged out, and Aziraphale slammed and locked the door behind her.

The angel plopped himself face down on the bed, pulling a pillow over his head.  His anger was all gone now, and he just wanted Crowley back to cuddle. He supposed he should be more focused on preparing for a potential fight with the demoness of chaos, but he just didn’t have the energy.  So he just lay there in the perpetual dark, under the heavy burden of gravity, alone and morose.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On LJ at http://go-exchange.livejournal.com/199441.html  
> On tumblr at http://not-a-space-alien.tumblr.com/post/156229795230/to-ineffability-and-beyond

Aziraphale was awoken by something thin and whiskery rubbing his cheek.  He brushed it away without opening his eyes.  The sensation withdrew momentarily, then came back.

“Crowley, that tickles,” he said sleepily.  

Another tickle.  “Stop it.”

When it still did not stop, he mustered up the motivation to open his eyes.  And all the electric disgust beings from Earth hold for creepy-crawlies surged through him as he saw _something_ a few inches away, something with a maw lined with rows and rows of conical teeth, a leathery carapace, too many legs, and three pairs of antennae that were currently tapping him.

He would later be embarrassed about the volume and pitch of the scream that came out of his mouth.  With one mighty heave, he flung the duvet off.  Whatever it was that had been on the bed with him rolled to the floor as the blanket whipped out from underneath it, landing with a meaty _thunk_.  The blanket sprawled to cover it, only to be thrown away amidst a tangle of legs struggling to right the creature, which had landed on its back.

Aziraphale sprung up and grabbed the broom.  The _thing_ had managed to flip itself over, and with some trepidation Aziraphale saw that it was nearly as long as the angel himself, with a wedge-shaped head and antennae almost the length of its body over again.  It reared up, waving its antennae around, vibrating in a strange way.

Aziraphale beat its head with the broom, one decent _smack_. __

“Ow,” said a familiar voice.

“C-Crowley!?” Aziraphale said, keeping the broom on the thing to prevent it from getting any closer to him.

“Oh thank somebody,” said Crowley’s voice from the general direction of the _thing_.   “I thought I was going to be mute for the rest of my life.”

“Wh-what have you done to your corporation?” Aziraphale stuttered.  “Crowley?!”

The antennae waved again.  “I _told_ you.”

“You told me what?”

“That there were aliens on 442b.”

“ _What?_ ”

With one spindly leg, the creature pushed the broom out of its face—or lack thereof, since it didn’t seem to have any eyes. Its legs pulled at the sheets, crawling over with bed with a sinuous wave of its legs.  “What happened to Nick Jr. Jr.?” it said, dismayed, the antennae wriggling all over the pot and the dirt on the floor.

“Forget about the plant!” Aziraphale said.  “What happened to _you_?”

The creature’s head snaked back around to Aziraphale, the antennae battering his face.  He waved the broom to paddle them away.  Centipede-Crowley began to shake with vibration, and a sonorous laugh rang out.

“I can only imagine your face,” he said.  “I can _imagine._  I don’t think you can tell right now, but I’m smug.  I’m smug as hell.  I’m laughing at you right now.   _Ow._ ”

This last part came as Aziraphale brought the broom down on his head again.  “Knock it off, angel!”

“Crowley, you can’t just barge into our room looking like that and expect me to not have a reaction.”

The antennae wiggled on him again.  He waved a hand as though he were shooing away a fly.

“I couldn’t get my voice to work,” said Crowley. “I don’t have vocal cords in this body.”

“What?  Then how do you communicate?”

“Hell if I know! I was trying my damnedest to figure it out before you started smacking me around!  I finally just cheated to make my voice out of thin air, because nothing in my anatomy can do it!  Talking is a non-stop stream of miracles!”

“All right, just calm down,” said Aziraphale.

“You’re one to talk.  Put that thing down.”

Aziraphale leaned the broom against the wall, then forced himself to sit on the bed next to Crowley.  “All right.  Why don’t you just tell me what happened?”

“Well, I took one of the atmosphere suits to go out of the dome.  And I used my screen to—My screen!  I left it out there!  Oh no! What am I going to do without my screen?”

“Don’t worry about that. The aliens?”

“Oh, right.  I used my screen to find the nearest…er…’volcano.’ And when I looked inside of it. Well.”

“Well?”

One of the broader antennae came around and smacked him in the face.  “There wasn’t any lava!  Didn’t I tell you?  It’s a very narrow, very hot alien civilization!”

“You can’t be serious!”

“It _was_ very hot.  And something came out of the hole at me.  And…well…We’re not supposed to interfere in human affairs in the sense of history, you know?  With our powers, we have the responsibility to let them make their own history and not decide for them.  How improper would it be if a _demon_ made first contact?  I couldn’t let that happen.  And who knows how they’d react to seeing someone so different, you know?  Might get violent.  So I…”

“You jury-rigged your corporation to quickly make it like what _they_ looked like.  So they wouldn’t see a human, but one of their own.”

It looked like Crowley was trying to nod, but it didn’t quite work.  So he gave up and said, “Yes.”

“Did it work?”

“I think so.  I don’t think I got the placement of the antennae quite right.  I did it really quickly.  It’s hard to tell, but they seemed a little unsettled by me.  Like I fell right into their uncanny valley.”

Aziraphale put his hands on his chin, curiosity beginning to burn as his revulsion faded.  “And how did they react?”

“They tried to coax me inside. I think they were afraid I was going to freeze to death on the surface.”

“Well, they sound…nice.”

“It was _really_ warm inside.  Like, it would uncomfortably hot for a human.  I don’t think they really go on the surface.”

“ _You went down?_ ”

“Only for a few dozen meters. It was so claustrophobic that I turned around and bolted back out.  I was afraid I’d get lost and be stuck down there.”

“And I assume you had to employ miracles to keep from freezing to death outside?”

“Mm-hmm.  And now here I am.”

“Wow,” said Aziraphale. “Just.   _Wow._  I-I don’t know what to say.”

The antennae came back down on him.  “Crowley, _please_ stop doing that.”

“Angel, I don’t have any eyes! This is how I form images of the world around me!”

“What, with your feelers?”

“Well, that and the sounds…”

“Sounds?”

“Echolocation. Vibration.  Er.”

“Well, they live underground. I’d imagine that’s what they’d have to do.  But you can change back now, you know.”

Crowley’s feet tapped uncomfortably on the bed.  “Um…”

“Yes?”

“Well.  Do you remember that time, ah…”

“When, dear?”

“2068. When I shapeshifted into a snake.  And I’d always told you I was afraid to change my shape because I might forget how to change back?  And I got stuck as a snake and couldn’t get unstuck until 2070?”

“You didn’t.  Crowley, you _didn’t._ ”

The antennae waved. Aziraphale wished to God that Crowley had a facial expression to read.  “I, um…”

“You got stuck, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.  A little.  Yes.”

“Crowley!  What are the humans going to do if they see you like this? And you left the atmosphere suit out there, didn’t you?  They’re going to think you’re still missing.”

“Angel, you _didn’t_ call to report me missing?  Did you?”

“I just…I just called to ask if they had seen you, and I _might_ have told them I wasn’t sure where you were.”

“Oh my god!”  Crowley reared up again, his front legs waving. “Angel!  Come on!”

“I’m sorry!  I was worried about you!  And then Lily showed up and…”

He trailed off.  “Who’s Lily?” Crowley prompted.

“The other demon.  I’m worried she might try to start something.”

“Great.”  Crowley dropped down low and crept forwards, hiding what was presumably his head under the cover next to Aziraphale.  “Gah, angel, it’s _freezing_ in here.  I can’t figure out if I’m still warm-blooded or not.”

Aziraphale graciously pulled the duvet over him and watched as his fat body curled up underneath of it, only antennae poking out.  “Well…I suppose we’ll just have to keep you out of sight for a while, then.  But you really should try and figure out how change back.”

“I dunno, I rather like it. You could give a new shape a try.”

“ _No._ ”

“Aw come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it at home, unfortunately. Now, do please let me go back to sleep.”

Crowley’s head poked out as Aziraphale took some of the covers for himself.  “You’re just going to sleep with these new developments?”

“Yes, I’m tired.”

“You sound like me.”

“You woke me up.  I’m just still tired, all right?  What are you going to do about it?”

The answer turned out to be _nothing_ , because Crowley was also asleep a few minutes later.  Kepler-442b was an exhausting planet

* * *

It was difficult to tell when you were supposed to wake up if you did not set an alarm, which Aziraphale hadn’t. Fortunately nobody had to work very hard, so you could generally sleep as much as you wanted to. 

Aziraphale let himself wake up naturally.  His eyes opened sleepily, pupils dilating in the darkness of the room.  Crowley was lying next to him, curled up in a way reminiscent of how he slept as a snake.  Aziraphale had no idea how to tell if he was asleep or not.  One of his antennae twitched.

“Crowley, are you awake?”

No response.  He patted Crowley’s fat body gently.  “Crowley?”

A leg twitched.   _Must be asleep._  Aziraphale drew the covers up to completely cover the demon, then tiptoed out of bed. Now that he had a clearer head, he knew that he should do something to prepare if Lily decided to start something.

The settlement had holy places scattered about. They were the kinds of sites that tried to be inter-faith to the extreme, spattering as many holy symbols as possible along the walls in the hopes of doing something and, as a consequence, not doing much of anything.  It was a “jack-of-all-trades, master of none” scenario.  But the holy water in them was as much holy water as any holy water.  He grabbed an empty flask before exiting their apartment, padding down the unlit stairs.

It was quiet.  The settlement seemed to go into torpor during the night cycle.  He picked his way across the rocky ground to the nearest church/mosque/temple/synagogue/community room.  One human was on their knees praying inside, and Aziraphale took the opportunity to impart a bit of divine comfort to them before scooping up some holy water in the flask.  He screwed it tightly shut, wiped the excess off, and stored it in his jacket pocket.

He left the holy site, taking his time on the walk back to take in the sights, which in this case were mostly just the rocky horizon and the other buildings in the compound.  Still, they were sights, and he took them in.  He swiped his screen to be let into the building, took the stairs back up, and swiped again to be let into the room.

“Crowley, I know you’re probably not going to like this,” he said, taking his jacket off as he came in.  “But I’ve—Crowley?” 

He tiptoed over and threw the covers back. The bed was empty.  He cursed aloud.  “Crowley?”  He looked wildly around the room, tossing things aside and digging around trying to find him.  “Crowley? Crowley!  Crowley, where are you?  Stupid boy!”

The window was open.  The window had been shut when he had left.  He cursed again, throwing whatever was currently in his hands in anger.

He peered out the window, noting what building was across the way—it was a straight shot to the building that housed a cafeteria.

Aziraphale turned around, still releasing a string of curses, and went down the stairs, looped around, and marched straight for the building in question.  He strained his senses to the max to feel any demonic presence around.  He felt one faintly straight ahead.

“Crowley?” he whispered harshly into the door. “Crowley, come out here now.”

No response, so he shoved it open all the way and started in.  The hallway was bare metal and his boots clanked loudly on the floor. Thankfully nobody seemed to be around.  He made the turn to the corridor hallway that he knew led to the cafeteria, and which also happened to have the strongest feeling of demonic presence.

There was a great big something on the ceiling, picking its way over the wires and metal pipes that lined it.  Aziraphale managed to overtake him just before he made the final turn into the cafeteria.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale hissed, grabbing one antenna and yanking hard on it.  “What are you doing?”

“Ow,” said Crowley.  “Don’t do that!”

“Crowley, I thought the _first_ thing we agreed on was that we shouldn’t let the humans see you like this!”

“Oh, stop fussing, Aziraphale, nobody’s seen me. Besides, I’m on the ceiling! Nobody ever looks up anymore.  Too busy looking at the ground.”

“There’s cameras!”

“Conveniently malfunctioning.”

“I was gone for half an hour at most!  And I come back to find you missing!”

“I was getting hungry!  And I didn’t have my screen to call you.”

“Crowley, you need to stay home.  I’ll get you something to eat.”

“My taste buds are different now!  I don’t know what’s going to look good anymore. I don’t trust you to pick something out for me.”

“For God’s sake, Crowley—”  He stopped as he heard a small _whirring_ sound approaching them.  “ _Someone’s coming_.”

Crowley scuttled unsurely on the ceiling, then pressed himself as flat as he would go.

The captain rounded the bend, wheeling herself leisurely.  Aziraphale stood up ramrod straight, trying not to look nervously and failing miserably. “Ah!  Captain!  Hello!”

“Hey, there,” she said.  “Aziraphale, right?”

“Yes, ma’am!”  His eyes flicked from her up to Crowley on the ceiling, then back down.

“Relax, you’re not in trouble.  I just thought it might be good to talk about your missing partner.  Someone took one of our atmospheric suits yesterday without permission and went out of the bubble, and there’s been no return trip reported.  Do you think it might have been him?”

Aziraphale rubbed his hands together nervously. “Ah, I don’t know.  Maybe?  Maybe it was him.  I don’t know. I don’t think so.  Oh!  I just remembered.  He wasn’t missing at all.  He was just down at the laundromat and I didn’t know where he was.  Nothing wrong at all.  No need to look for him.”

Crowley’s longest pair of antennae were slowly unfolding and coming down.  If the captain hadn’t been seated in a wheelchair, they would have run right into her face.  Aziraphale’s eyes flicked up to him and down again, but he could not gesture or speak to him and risk losing her attention.

“Are you okay?” she said.  “If something’s going on, you can tell me about it. Confidentially.”

The antennae brushed the back of her neck, then retreated back up to the ceiling a split second before she palmed her neck and twisted around to look behind her.  Aziraphale took the opportunity to furiously make the “cut it out” gesture with his hand on his neck, which he suddenly remembered Crowley would not be able to see with no eyes.

“Drafty in here,” she said.  “Anyway, I’m on schedule to go back up to the _Aphelion_ at first light in a few days, so I thought it’d be best if that situation got resolved before I left.  Good to hear he turned up.  Let me know if you hear anything about who our wanderer might be, will you?”

“Yes, of course, captain.  You’re going back up to the _Aphelion_?” 

He watched in horror as the antennae came back down.  “We have a skeleton crew onboard, and we alternate shifts.  He’s got terraforming programs running to speed up the atmospheric conversion, and most of the electrical grids are still drawing from his systems.  Best to have someone up there keep an eye on things in case something goes wrong, because if he stops spinning we’d probably be dead within a few hours.  Not sure if we’re all set up yet to maintain the temperature and atmospheric filters without him.”

She stopped talking and cranked her neck back again, but the antennae had disappeared.  “Anyway.”  Aziraphale stood to the side and let her wheel herself past.  “You can call me if there’s anything you wanted to talk about. Have a nice breakfast.”

Aziraphale held his breath until he heard the external door shut, heralding her exit.  Then he exploded, “Crowley, what was that all about?  You couldn’t keep your appendages to yourself?”

“I can’t _see_ her, angel, I needed to know where she was!”

“Bugger!  What’s _wrong_ with you?”

“You want an itemized list?  That’ll take a while.”  He snaked forwards, crawling over the ceiling towards the cafeteria. “And now I know what time of day it is: breakfast.  Hopefully there’s no one around.”

It turned out that there was only person eating alone at a table at the far end.  Aziraphale managed to convince them to finish up and leave a bit early, and then miracled the door locked behind them, leaving him and Crowley alone with the automated food service.

“But we have to hurry up,” he told Crowley. “Because they might call someone if they can’t get the doors open.”

Crowley took a tray clumsily with a foreleg not designed for such a task.  Aziraphale sighed and took it off of him.  “Here, let me help you.”

Operating the machines that produced the food went much the same way, with Crowley insisting he could do it and Aziraphale eventually pushing him aside and doing it for him or, occasionally, performing a small miracle to help him out.

Crowley immediately set about vacuuming the food up with his strange, downward-turned mouth.  Aziraphale pulled fistfuls of napkins out of the dispenser and brought them over.

“This all tastes awful,” said Crowley gloomily. “What do they _eat?_  I have no idea how to tell what smells good or not.”

A mélange of grease and ketchup and crumbs was dripping down from his mouth, which he did not seem to notice.  “For goodness sake, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, wiping him.  “You can still act civilized.”

He nearly let out a scream as the maw closed around the napkins, tearing them up and swallowing.

“Crowley, those are supposed to be recycled!”

“Hey, that’s not bad.”

“You can’t be serious.”

The antennae tickled Aziraphale all over until they found the wad of napkins in his other hand.  He lifted his head, as though smelling the air.

“You can’t seriously mean to eat _napkins._ ”

His insectoid body flopped off the bench onto Aziraphale, putting his head approximately near Aziraphale’s other hand.  The angel let go of the napkins as they disappeared into Crowley’s mouth, which was moving in a circular motion to grind them up.

“ _Dear—_ ”

Crowley’s body began to vibrate, and he threw himself down, tapping on the floor.  “Where was the dispenser again?”

“It’s—blast, Crowley, you can’t just eat all the napkins!”

“Why not?”

A knock sounded on the door.  “Hello?  Is the cafeteria closed?” said a muffled voice.

Aziraphale cursed.  Crowley had reached the dispenser was sucking the napkins down.

“Crowley, we have to go.”  He came over and wrapped his arms around Crowley’s body, but the demon clung to the dispenser with all his legs and waved his antennae wildly, booming with angry vibrations.

“Get off me!”

“Crowley, someone’s coming!”

He finally managed to rip Crowley off, and a flood of napkins spilled out after him.  Crowley strained against Aziraphale’s arms, scrabbling on the floor and balling up the spilled napkins in his forelegs.

Another knock sounded on the door.  “I feel like it should still be open,” said a second voice.

Aziraphale dragged Crowley to the nearby window, slammed it open, and hurled him out.  He then miracled the doors open, revealing a pair of confused-looking colonists.  “Ah, there we go,” said one of them. 

Aziraphale glanced back out the window, sweating, and was relieved to see Crowley scuttling off in the direction of the apartments, awkwardly clutching the ball of napkins with one pair of legs and using the others to propel himself forwards.  It was only a matter of moments before he scrabbled up the wall of the building and whipped into the open window of their bedroom.

Aziraphale shuffled past the newcomers, muttering a vague apology about the door being stuck earlier, and joined up with the demon in their residence.  The napkins were mysteriously gone by the time he got there.

* * *

Aziraphale managed to convince Crowley to stay indoors from then on with the promise that he would bring Crowley anything to try and eat he requested, no questions asked.  It was a team effort to feed him; neither of them really had any idea of what Crowley could eat, and while he wouldn’t starve to death, he certainly would complain a lot.

Paper products seemed to be a favorite, which was unfortunate because of how sparse they were.  Aziraphale was glad for once that his books were all safely converted to electronics.  He’d never thought he’d have to worry about the demon _eating_ them.  Crowley managed to get his hands—pincers—on a roll of paper towels at one point, and he sat there on the bed rolling it out with his foremost pair of legs and slurping it up.

Bread was acceptable when fresh but a delicacy when moldy.  Milk was disgusting but cheese was tolerable.  Fruit turned out to be palatable, but only when it had started to rot, so Aziraphale ended up carting armfuls of fruit from the cafeteria back to the room to set on the windowsill.  He made the rounds at all the different cafeterias, going so far as to go across the settlement to avoid the strange looks he’d get from taking a cumulative three pounds of apples from one single source.  Crowley turned his nose up at meat, saying it smelled like it would make him ill, which was probably for the best since natural meat was very expensive and the artificial stuff was never very good anyway. Artificial seafood turned out to be poisonous altogether, which they learned after Aziraphale finally caught onto what anaphylactic shock would look like for that species and did a quick healing miracle.  They were both very downcast to find that it was apparently impossible to get drunk with that particular anatomy, as well.

For the life of him, Aziraphale could not figure out what this species’ natural diet would be.  What would they eat?  Rocks? Dirt?  Lava?

When Crowley insisted that Aziraphale go to the greenhouse and get him another potted plant, Aziraphale also brought back a handful of dirt.  Crowley reported that it tasted good, but he could only eat a few mouthfuls because it had the same effect as, say, a very rich piece of chocolate cake.  He stuck the remainder of it in the refrigerator, perhaps without realizing what he was doing.

He then set about setting up Nick Jr. Jr. Jr. in the sunniest corner of the room.  This went about as well as one would expect from a creature with no eyes or thumbs.

There were other problems as well.  He insisted on using Aziraphale’s screen since he had lost his own, but his pincers did not interact with the touch screen well. Aziraphale gave him a stylus, but it was very difficult to use without any fingers.  And he hogged it all the time.  Once when Aziraphale tried to take it back to do some accounting, Crowley complained loudly that he was missing something very important.  Apparently, _Sherlock_ series five was finally available, and he needed to finish up _Supernatural_ season 1,097 before he could watch it because he couldn’t watch two TV shows at once.

Once someone from the greenhouse came by to ask Crowley about work.  Aziraphale was surprised, because he hadn’t thought Crowley had actually been doing any work or even keeping up the appearance of doing work.  He cobbled together a story about Crowley being sick, which Crowley embellished with a few overly dramatic coughs and moans from under the duvet.

There were also some less expected problems. They found that some type of purple moss kept growing on Crowley’s body unless it was scrubbed daily.  He had a hard time scrubbing himself on his own, and while it was true that he _could_ technically just use some miracles, that would mean he wouldn’t have an excuse to badger Aziraphale into washing him.  As a consequence, they got into the routine of starting the day with a shower together.  Aziraphale warmed up to it much faster than he thought he would.

Currently, they were together in the tub with the hot water streaming over them, steam making wet droplets on every surface in the room and fogging the mirror.  Crowley was reared up, clinging to Aziraphale’s chest.  His antennae drooped contentedly, and the vibrations coming from his throat sounded remarkably like a cat purring.  He leaned into the scrub brush as Aziraphale began to rub it on him.

He started making those wheedling little sounds that Aziraphale liked so much.  He perhaps liked it a little too much.

“Angel, are you… aroused right now?” said Crowley. If he had had a perceptible face, he would probably be smirking.

“No,” Aziraphale said, colouring furiously.

It was silent except for the water cascading over them.

“It’s okay,” said Crowley.  “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”  His body moved in a shimmying motion.  “I know, I _am_ pretty sexy.”

Aziraphale let out a snort of a laugh, then covered his mouth.

Crowley’s antennae tapped all over him.  “I mean, it was over a week since we’d had sex before I showed up like this, wasn’t it?  You must be getting blue balls by now.”

“That’s not how it—Well, I—I suppose maybe I might—Crowley, you can’t be seriously suggesting we—”

“Come on,” said Crowley, another vibration rumbling in his chest.  “It’ll be fun.”

“Only if you change back first!”

“Aw, angel, it wouldn’t be that different from 2069. Remember that?  When I was a snake and we—”

“Yes, I remember,” he cut in.  “We said we wouldn’t bring that up again.”

“Nobody else is gonna know.  You’d be the first one to find out what it feels like to have sex with an alien.  Come on, Aziraphale!  You’re missing a golden opportunity here.  What if it’s really good, but you miss out on it because you thought it was too weird?”

Aziraphale lowered the scrub brush.  “Well…”

A few minutes later, a freshly scrubbed Aziraphale was lying back on a mound of pillows on the bed, wondering how he had been talked into this.

“All right,” he said.  “I’m ready.”

Crowley scaled over the headboard and descended upon him.  His muscular body wrapped around him, his feelers tickling his chest and his legs tapping him rhythmically.  His body vibrated with a steady hum, which Aziraphale could feel throbbing in the areas where that alien body was pressing against him.  He did not want to admit how much he liked it.  He could feel that subsonic booming syncing with his heartbeat, pulsing like an unheard song.

He leaned back, straight into the bulky body of Crowley’s chest, entrenched in those many pairs of legs.  The feelers tickled him, and he twitched in response as they went lower and lower.  He could feel something nibbling on his earlobe, then his neck, then his shoulder.

Aziraphale closed his eyes, drifting away with the sensation.  He could feel legs tapping against his chest, stroking, the undulating body slithering down him, curling and grasping him, enveloping him with that rhythm.

He felt something tickling the head of his erection. He moaned, still twitching.

“Are you ready, angel?”

An image suddenly flashed into his mind: Crowley’s alien gullet, lined with rows of conical teeth, white and sharp as anything.

His eyes flew open.  Crowley was hovering close to his crotch, that downward-turned mouth above his member.

“Crowley, wait!” he said, embarrassed to hear his voice squeak.

“What is it?”

“You, um…”

That muscular mouth flexed open and shut, the teeth rotating within it.  “What?”

“Your mouth is quite a bit sharper than it was before!”

“Aw come on, you know I don’t use my teeth.”

“You’ve never had that many teeth before.”

“They’re retractable.”

“What?”

“My teeth.  They’re retractable, you know.  And I’ve discovered that I don’t have a gag reflex.”

Okay, that was a bit too much to refuse. Aziraphale closed his eyes again, moved his hands down the warm, leathery body on top of him, and gripped the base of his antennae.

“It’s not the same,” he said.  “Normally I can stroke your hair.”

“We can be a bit rougher.  Go ahead and yank me down.”

“Just like that?  Down onto it?”

“Somebody, I don’t know how to tell if I’m aroused. I think I’m enjoying this.  Just give me a good yank.”

Aziraphale squeezed his fists around Crowley’s antennae and shoved him down.

Oh lord, if anything Crowley’s body was even warmer than usual now.  He had to stop himself from shouting out and coming immediately as his partner’s throat constricted and squeezed in new and interesting ways.  He bucked and squirmed, all of Crowley’s legs moving rhythmically on him, that vibrating beat increasing in frequency and intensity.

He climaxed embarrassingly fast.  His cock was further squeezed as Crowley swallowed. He let himself shout out, then sprawled on the bed.

“You like that?” Crowley purred.

“Oh…” he said, putting his hand to his forehead. “Wow.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Crowley swiveled and lay his head down on Aziraphale’s chest, letting his feelers go limp.  Aziraphale stroked his head.  “How was that for you?”

“Didn’t do much.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  If you gave me an idea of what, I could, em…”

“I’m not sure if I’ve got genitals at all,” he said morosely.

“Oh, my dear boy—”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.  Crowley started and scuttled under the bed.  Aziraphale hastily tried to find his pants and put them back on.  He ended up answering the door without a shirt on.

It was Lily.  He suddenly wished he had put a shirt on.

“Angel,” she said.

“I told you not to call me that.”

She had a crazed look in her eye.  “Please.  I’m begging you.  They told me I’m not allowed to just flat-out destroy anything unless it was in a fight with you.  I’m going mad on this rock with nothing going on.  I’m a demon of _chaos._  I don’t know why they sent me here if they weren’t going to let me do anything violent.  Please be merciful.”

“I’m not going to fight you!” he shouted. “You’ll just have to deal with it! Leave me alone!”

“You’ll be sorry!” she yelled back.  “You’d do better to just get it over with now! Come, we can just raze one building! Hardly anybody will notice!”

“No,” he said.  “Kindly do go away.”

He slammed the door in her face.  That wouldn’t actually do anything, of course. But sliding the lock shut made him feel better.

He could hear her growling outside the door. He dived towards the dresser where he had stashed his thermos of holy water.  He took it out and pointed it at the door.

There turned out to be no need to use it.  The demonic presence outside faded after a few moments.

He sighed in relief and replaced the holy water in his sock drawer.  He then knelt by the bed and grabbed Crowley, sliding him out by one front leg.  “It’s all right, you can come out now.”

The demon scaled his leg and torso almost instantly, feelers whipping wildly as he maintained his precarious balance on Aziraphale’s shoulders.  “Angel, I have an idea.”

“What’s that?  About what to do about Lily?”

“No, about the aliens.”

“…I suppose technically _we’d_ be the aliens, don’t you think?” 

“Listen, you and I should go out and make first contact.”

“Crowley, you’re thinking about that _now?_  Don’t you think we should try to get Lily out of our hair first?”

“Ah, demons are like that, Aziraphale.  She’s not going anywhere.  This is important.  We should go out there and make contact.”

“Okay….dare I ask why?”

“Think about it, angel. They’re going to discover each other eventually.  There’s no avoiding it.”

“But we should let them do it in their own time!”

“Listen, they’ve already seen me. If you and I go out together, if they see one of us and one of them together, it’ll smooth things out for when the real humans meet them.  If this first meeting between species goes sour, it’s going to affect _us_ as well.  If they bomb each other into oblivion, we’ll be stuck on a lifeless rock with no way of getting back to Earth.”

“I think I see your point. And you’re sure you just don’t want to go out there for the sake of causing trouble, hm?”

He wiggled his antennae. “Me?  Trouble?  Never!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On LJ at http://go-exchange.livejournal.com/199756.html  
> On AO3 at http://not-a-space-alien.tumblr.com/post/156230143570/to-ineffability-and-beyond

Aziraphale convinced a human to give him an atmospheric suit with the help of the little hypnosis trick Crowley was so fond of. Obviously nothing they had would fit Crowley, so he would have to make do with miracles to keep himself alive on the surface of the planet.  A human could survive for a few minutes unprotected, but what the limit might be for native fauna was still unclear.

Aziraphale stepped out of the airlock onto the barren surface of Kepler-442b.  The sun was just starting to come up, casting long shadows from every rock and irregularity in the surface, washed-out reds and purples. Crowley scuttled by his feet.

Aziraphale’s lips moved from behind his visor.

“Can’t hear you, angel.  You have to turn your microphone on.”

A light came on inside the helmet.

“That’s the light.  The microphone.”

“I said, you should go on ahead and lead the way,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley skimmed the surface of the planet, quickly moving off into the distance.  “I hope you’re ready for a bit of a walk.”

“Slow down, you’re going to leave me behind.”

The planet was dreadfully monotonous and empty.  They passed the time by amusing themselves with conversation, two human voices breaking the otherwise absolute stillness of the barren surface.  Aziraphale now found it much more exciting knowing that there was such activity right beneath his feet.

“How intelligent do you suppose they are?”

“Dunno,” said Crowley.  “I didn’t see anything besides rock tunnels while I was down there, but I didn’t go in very far, so who knows if they build things?  They don’t have eyes, but with no light they don’t really need them.  I suppose the antennae gestures and vibrations are varied enough to make a language of sorts.  And I think they were worried about me, so they must have some concept of empathy, unless they had been trying to cannibalize me and I just misinterpreted it.”

Aziraphale grimaced.  “Well, if that turns out to be the case, we can just leave and let the humans deal with them as they may.”

“…Right.”

They came to the place, finally: an upraised hill, sloping gently upwards.  The air above it wavered with heat.  The old atmosphere suit was still there, lying empty a few paces off.

Crowley skittered up and perched on the lip of the entrance.  “Stay right there, angel.  I’m going to see if I can find anyone and bring them up.”

“All right.”

“Don’t make too many sudden movements.  Just let them feel you.”

“Right.”

Crowley slithered into the hole. Aziraphale waited uncomfortably, listening to his own breathing inside the helmet.

Crowley reappeared a few minutes later and zoomed over to Aziraphale, wrapping around his leg.   And two similar-looking creatures appeared behind him, sticking their heads out of the hole and waving their antennae.

“Hello,” said Aziraphale nervously.

The two creatures jerked backwards towards the hole.

“You’re talking too loudly,” said Crowley.  “They’re very sensitive to vibrations.”

“Hello,” said Aziraphale in a whisper.

The two creatures eased back out, waving with renewed curiosity.  Crowley tapped his leg, and Aziraphale stepped forwards, holding his hands out.

Two bodies plopped out of the hole and slid down the mound towards him.  Their feelers battered him immediately, and they began to hum and vibrate.

“Hello!” said Aziraphale. “Crowley, I think they like me.”

One of them crouched low to the floor and approached Crowley, flicking its antennae at him and rumbling. “What’s it saying?” said Aziraphale.

“Blast, I have no idea,” said Crowley.  “It could be anything.”

The second creature tugged at Aziraphale’s leg, then his hip, then his shoulder, running back to the top of the mound then back again in a flash, chittering and humming.  The first one bumped Aziraphale’s legs from behind.

“Oh, ah,” said Aziraphale unsurely.  “I-I think I’d better stay out here, sorry.”

The two creatures stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of him, rearing up, their tapping antennae never leaving him.  He held his hands out again, and they tugged at him.

“I can’t go down there,” said Aziraphale.  “Your bodies are designed to move through spaces like that easily and mine isn’t. I have to stay on the surface.”

One of them gave a great shiver, threw itself on the ground, turned itself over, legs wriggling, and then fell still.

“Goodness, are you okay?”

The creature rolled back upright, pulling at him again.

“Crowley, did you see that?” Aziraphale gasped.  “That one just pantomimed dying.  They want me to come inside because they think I’ll die if I stay up here.”

“Angel.”

“Crowley, look!  There’s another one coming out!  And look, that one’s wearing some sort of hat or a jacket or something!  It’s—Crowley you were supposed to let that moss on your back grow out!  It looks so handsome like that.”

“Angel!”  Crowley suddenly appeared in front of him, pushing the other two creatures out of the way.  They scattered, retreating back to the top of the hill, waving their antennae indignantly.

“Crowley!  What did you do that for?  They were just starting to warm up to me.”

Crowley scaled Aziraphale’s body, clamped one leg on each side of his head, and wrenched his gaze around back toward the colony.

“We need to go _now_.”

“What?  Why?”

“Look up.”

Aziraphale did so.  The sun was just beginning to touch the tips of the colony.  The new light struck the shining surface of the _Aphelion_ not far above the bubble.  And the wheel of that great metal ship was perfectly still, hovering ominously over the colony like a bad omen in the sky.

The microphone within Aziraphale’s helmet crackled to life.

“Hello?” said Aziraphale.

The static resolved into a voice. “Hello, Aziraphale.”

“Lily?”

“Do you think Heaven is ready to receive 9,827 new souls?  Or do you think they shall go to Hell instead?  Or are we too far away, and they’ll just stay here somewhere?”

The three alien creatures watched Aziraphale and Crowley’s backs receding into the distance from the top of the mound, their antennae on the ground to feel the vibrations of their retreat. And if it were at all possible, they looked a little disappointed to see them go.

* * *

 

The shuttles that carried people to and from the _Aphelion_ were actually launched a bit away from the colony, on a separate landing platform out in the cold desert.  Aziraphale suddenly remembered with startling clarity what the captain had said about going up the _Aphelion_ at first light, and he moved with supernatural speed across the planet’s empty surface towards where he knew the landing pad was.

The shuttle was still there, nose pointing up at the sky.  As they approached, they saw a gaggle of humans in atmosphere suits nearby, gawking up at the _Aphelion_ , which was never supposed to stop spinning and was now completely motionless.

Crowley had curled up into a ball, and Aziraphale was holding him against his chest for efficiency’s sake. Aziraphale had his wings out and had been using them to rocket across the wasteland, phasing them through the atmosphere suit.  He had meant to pull them in before getting into sight of the humans.  He really had.

But he accidentally just kind of didn’t.  Their amazed gazes ripped from the _Aphelion_ to him.

“Don’t stop!” Crowley shouted.  “Keep going!”

Aziraphale caught sight of the captain’s incredulous gaze as he barreled through them, straight into the shuttle.  The door miraculously sealed itself shut behind them. The humans were probably yelling at him to open it, but he didn’t listen as he made his way to the cockpit and chucked Crowley onto the co-pilot’s seat.

“You know how to fly this thing?” said Crowley, uncurling.

“In theory,” said Aziraphale, strapping himself in. “It’s mostly automated.  I read a book.”

“You read a book?”

“You told them I was a robotics engineer, so I went about trying to learn about robotics!  It seemed the least I could do!”

“Oh, well, that settles it, then, might as well be a five-star pilot.”

“Crowley, if you’d have the decency to stop yapping right about now, making yourself human-shaped again would probably be a big help, seeing as how the seat belts are made for human bodies.”

“Right…” said Crowley.

With a thought, Aziraphale summoned the holy water from his sock drawer.  The thermos appeared beside him, but it tumbled down toward the bottom of the ship when he didn’t grab it in time.

He looked over to see that Crowley was decidedly still not human-shaped, but he had managed to strap himself mostly in nonetheless.

“Right, I suppose this is as good as it’s going to get,” Aziraphale said.  “Let’s just hope they have the decency to clear the landing pad when they hear the countdown.”

The flight went more smoothly than one might expect.  Docking turned out to be a challenge though, because the computer was programmed to land them on a moving ship, not a stationary one.  Aziraphale grabbed the holy water before they moved through the airlock to the _Aphelion_.

“Shit,” said Aziraphale as the door swung open and they realized the entire ship was in zero-G.  “Crowley, you’re sure you can’t turn back to man-shaped right about now?”

Crowley’s spindly legs hooked onto Aziraphale, who was still in his atmosphere suit.  “I’ll keep trying.  I’ll just stick to you, don’t worry about me.”

Aziraphale used the emergency handlebars on the wall to move the two of them into the hallway and onto the ship. The lights were strobing on and off, the intercom was crackling static, and objects never intended to be in zero-G floated by them and bumped them gently.

The intercom exploded into a voice warped by static decay.  “Good to see you finally get with the program, Aziraphale.  Nice to meet you, I’m a _demon_ , and I won’t be ignored.”

The hallway echoed with a laugh that did not seem to be coming from the intercom alone, and the lights flicked out one by one until they were only lit from below by a red emergency light.

“Have I finally got your attention now?”

“Angel,” said Crowley, tapping him and gesturing upwards.  The maintenance tunnel access they had used to mess about in the voyage to Kepler-442b was right above them.

“Can you find me?”  Lily’s voice rattled the pipes and metal grating under them.  “I’ll give you a hint: I’m not in a publicly accessible area.”

Aziraphale popped the maintenance panel off and crawled in.  They weaved through the crawlspaces as they had before, this time much more urgently; Crowley’s new shape fit smoothly into the tunnel, legs tapping the metal as he zoomed through.  When they reached the ladder, it went straight up into pitch blackness.

“I ejected the crew into space when I docked,” said Lily’s voice, barely recognizable through the electronic distortion.  “Did you see them on your way up?  The _Aphelion_ is actually big enough to have a slight gravitational pull, so I’d imagine they’d be in orbit around us.”

“This isn’t funny, Lily!” Aziraphale shouted.  “The _Aphelion_ is vital to the colony’s continued function.  You need to stop whatever you’re doing to it right now.”

The lights in the maintenance tunnel strobed in a line towards them, flashed mockingly, then went out again.

Aziraphale reached the top of the ladder and kicked off against the wall, soaring into the enormous empty space that had once held all the robotics on the ship.

“What about your directions, hm? That you’re not supposed to destroy the colony?”

“Hell isn’t here right now! They’ll never know anything but the version of the story that _I_ tell them!  You should have just listened to me earlier!”

“The demoness of chaos,” said Aziraphale, moving past the locked door and kicking off, floating upwards. “Hell was bragging about how much better than Crowley you were, and this is your plan?  To throw a temper tantrum when your nemesis ignores you?”

“I have the power to single-handedly plunge an entire interstellar vessel into pandemonium,” her voice seethed. “You _will not_ ignore me.”

“Crowley,” said Aziraphale. “I might have to use this holy water.”

Crowley clung to him more tightly.

“I’ll give you the suit.”

“I’m not shaped right to fit in it.”

“Then figure something out!” Aziraphale snapped.

They had made their way to the enormous hollow shafts running to the center of the ship by now. Aziraphale could feel the second demonic presence growing nearer.  Lily’s shrieking laughter echoed down the shafts like a clanging bell, carried down with the harsh electric light from the engine.

Aziraphale braced against the ceiling and shot towards the cords, which were still zipping up and down with enormous speed.  The lights flickered and sparks flew out from the walls as they rode it up.

“Crowley, get ready,” said Aziraphale, beginning to unzip his suit.

“Angel, I’m not ready!”

“Hold on tight!”

The wall was coming up fast. Aziraphale threw himself off the cord and simultaneously twisted out of the atmosphere suit, leaving Crowley clinging to it as it spun in a different direction.

Aziraphale went tumbling head over heels, catching sight of Lily as he did so.  She was hovering in front of the swarming mass of blue light that was the engine with her wings out.  She was in a significantly more demonic form: forked tail, cloven hooves, sputtering fire and ashes, glowing embers in the dark broken only by the cold blue light bathing them all.  She turned to face Aziraphale as he appeared, and he smashed into the invisible barrier isolating the engine.

“Crowley!” said Aziraphale. He craned his neck to see the demon’s progress.

“I’m trying!” came the frustrated response.

Lily’s hands morphed into a beastly set of claws, and she lunged at Aziraphale.  He cursed and pushed off of the barrier, just narrowly missing being disemboweled.  Lily continued on her vector towards the wall, while Aziraphale went careening towards the floor.

He smashed into the surface, bouncing off and floating at an angle away.  Lily had sunk her claws into the wall and pushed off again, coming directly at him.

Aziraphale struggled in midair to right himself.  A hand yanked on his leg, turning him back upright, and Aziraphale’s vision was suddenly filled with the visor of the atmosphere suit.  Crowley’s human face stared back at him, yellow eyes aglow with triumph. “Let her have it, angel!” he said, zipping the suit up.

Aziraphale nodded, and with Crowley’s help he pivoted to face Lily, who was descending on him like a bird of prey.  He removed the thermos from his jacket, flicked the lid off, and threw the liquid out with one swift motion.

The water arced out, wobbling and splattering and resolving into large boluses and droplets, fanning out like a shotgun pellet.  Lily gave a shriek as she realized what was about to happen, but it was too late to try and change direction.

Aziraphale and Crowley held tightly to each other as she collided with the holy water.  She exploded into a fit of hisses and shrieks, crying out in pain and anger.  Nothing was left but an amorphous grey goo by the time it reached them, stray droplets of holy water pelting them.

“Ah,” said Crowley as a bubble of holy water broke on the visor.  “This is better than gloves and tongs.”

“You’re all right,” said Aziraphale, trying to ruffle the demon’s hair and obviously failing.

The lights snapped back on, and the warbling engine fell back into relative calmness.

“Look at that,” said Crowley, voice still shaking with adrenaline.  “We did it.  Haha.  We’re real space heroes, we are.  We should get a medal.  Two medals!”

Aziraphale clunked his forehead on the visor, smiling and bathing in that reciprocal smile, one that went all the way to the eyes, that very _human_ smile for a demon.

“I’ll get you all the medals you want, my dear.”

* * *

 

Returning the shuttle _would_ have been easy, except they also needed to avoid getting caught. They did manage to pull it off, though. The _Aphelion_ was spinning as it should once again, so they launched back down to the planet with considerable speed.  They had an ungraceful landing a ways away from the landing pad and took off before anyone could get to them.

They had seen Aziraphale’s face, though, of course. Aziraphale simply changed his corporation, all the facial features and even the skin tone, and insisted to anyone who asked that he had always looked like this.  That strange winged creature caught on camera at the landing pad? That’s not Aziraphale.  Hah, why would you even think that?  Clearly the two look totally different.

Angels and demons are very good at persuasion, so it worked reasonably well.  Tampering with the personnel files in the computer also helped.

The staff who went up confirmed that the _Aphelion_ was working properly despite the hiccup earlier, which they were still trying to explain.  The colonists had begun to panic anyway, though, with the realization that a malfunction that could wipe them all out was so possible.

The strange phenomena prompted the authorities of the colony to wonder if they had been a bit too hasty in their assumption that humans were the only lifeforms on Kepler-442b.  And lo and behold, a further investigation showed the presence of an underground civilization, insectoid eyeless cave-dwellers.  The crew that made first contact did not have the nerve to stomach the other species’ constant touching and apparent lack of understanding of the concept of personal space, so in the end the historic moment only consisted of about two minutes of a group of humans nervously standing about, then running back to their transport and driving off.

They got the call from Earth that they were to abandon the colony shortly after that.  Unethical to try and develop an already inhabited planet, they said. Aziraphale and Crowley wondered if it was really Earth’s decision, or if the combined force of the settlers who now hated the thought of living on Kepler-442b had pushed to come home despite protests.  Earth did not seem to have a plan for contacting the beings already living there, and the humans kept their distance as they speedily packed their things back onto the _Aphelion._

“It seems a little sad,” said Crowley.  He was on the bed looking at a screenview of the planet as Aziraphale fussed with the laundry, just as he had on the inbound trip.  “We’re going to break contact once and for all before we’ve even had the chance to say hello.”

Aziraphale managed to get all their belongings into the drawer, then slid it shut.  He sat down and wrapped an arm around Crowley.  “It’s out of our hands.”

“I know,” he said.  He looked around the suite.  “You know, I really didn’t miss this tiny room.  Even the apartments in the colony were bigger.”

“Think of it like a hotel room.”

“Mm-hmm.  Sure.”

“Well, now that we’re alone, I’m sure the return journey will be a lot less stressful.”

“Mmm.  Not looking forward to the cryosleep again, though.”

Aziraphale pushed him down into the bed, lying on top of him and wrapping his arms around him.  “You know, the two of us could sleep for 500 years without a cryopod.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“You know.  The rules.”

“Screw the rules.  Think of it.  500 years of cuddling.”

Crowley turned to give Aziraphale a kiss.  “Ooh, I like it when you talk dirty, angel.”

“Soon we’ll be able to step on the grass again.”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

Aziraphale pulled the blanket up over them both, snugging close.  Crowley suddenly went rigid.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot Nick Jr. Jr. Jr.!”

Aziraphale burst into laughter.  “You remembered to go back out and grab your screen before takeoff, but you forgot things from our own apartment.  I suppose you’ll have to get yet another plant, then.”

“But it just won’t be the same.”

“Hm, it’ll be at least a thousand years in the future once we get back. A lot of things won’t be the same.  Will you be ready for it?”

Crowley smiled and nuzzled his jaw.  “When you’re with me, I’m ready for anything, angel.”


End file.
